


love and kickin'

by camiii



Series: love and kickin'!verse [1]
Category: BBC Radio 1 RPF, One Direction (Band)
Genre: Alcohol, Anal Sex, Basically, Boys In Love, Football Player Louis, Hand Jobs, M/M, Minor Injuries, Oral Sex, Rimming, Semi-Public Sex, Sexual Content, minor hurt/comfort, sheena made me do it, there's no angst, this is probably the least angsty thing I've ever written
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-05
Updated: 2016-08-02
Packaged: 2018-07-21 17:01:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 59,499
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7396033
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/camiii/pseuds/camiii
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <em>When Nick looks up in direction of the pitch he nearly chokes on his mouthful of coffee. </em>
</p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p>  <em>The Arsenal player standing behind the sideline, ball in his hands and number 28 splayed across his back, is fit. Really fit. </em></p><p> </p><p>  <em>In all honesty Nick can only see him from behind, but the first thing he notices is a quite spectacular bum and nicely muscled thighs and, well, football might have its redeeming aspects after all.</em></p><p> </p><p>Or the fic where Nick has no interest in football but is dragged to a football match, Louis is the Arsenal player that catches his attention, and maybe there are some redeeming qualities to the game after all.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This was supposed to be a tiny ficlet because Louis partied with Arsenal players and Sheena posted [this](http://conscious--ramblings.tumblr.com/post/135181253216/if-i-dont-get-a-selfie-of-louis-and-an-arsenal) and [my brain went into overdrive](http://camiii.tumblr.com/post/135200514676) but six months later it's pushing 60k and yeah. oops. 
> 
> The fic is almost done, the next chapter will be posted as soon as possible.
> 
> A huge thank you to [Sheena](http://conscious--ramblings.tumblr.com) and [Alice](http://intenselouis.tumblr.com) for their beta work, all eventual remaining mistakes are my own. I couldn't have done this without your help and encouragment <3 And thanks to Steph for keeping me sane and listening to me rant about this fic over and over again, even though tomlinshaw is not your thing <3
> 
> All characters belong to themselves, and this should be kept very, very far away from anyone even remotely related to the boys.
> 
> For Sheena, because it has three of our favourite things: Louis, tomlinshaw and Arsenal. Let's pretend your birthday wasn't six months ago, yeah?

 

Nick is never drinking again.

He might come to miss wine, eventually, both as a beverage and a hobby but it’s simply not worth it. Because sometimes wine equals hangovers that make him horribly inept to withstand the puppy eyes and that pouty lip thing Harry pulls when he doesn’t get his way.

Today was no different. Harry might look innocent enough but he took advantage of Nick in his moment of weakness. Which in turn lead to Nick’s current situation; slowly but surely freezing his ass off, surrounded by fifty thousand-something screaming football fans on a Sunday afternoon when he could have stayed in bed. All because James’ kid just happened to get sick, leaving Harry without company for the match and blah-di-blah cue Nick being forced to suffer through almost two hours of football which; has he mentioned he doesn’t care about?

Harry is a world famous popstar, why does he care about football anyway? But Harry does care, to a ridiculous degree given that he spends a good portion of his day to day life abroad, touring the world with Niall and their band. And today Harry’s beloved Manchester United are playing Arsenal in London.

Speaking of Harry, he is busy taking pictures with fans, smiling and being his usual sunny self. Nick has posed in a few pictures himself, but his own status as a lowly radio DJ is nothing compared to Harry Styles. Who, apparently, is nowhere near Nick’s level of hungover and exhausted. It makes no sense, the last thing Nick remembers from last night was Harry and Niall ballroom dancing to a Lady Gaga remix, Harry’s spirited mood is a mystery.

Harry’s attempt to go unnoticed - by dressing in a huge shearling jacket and the hood of his sweatshirt pulled up against the cold - wasn’t enough, but he doesn’t seem to mind. Nick blames his own likely still alcohol-soaked brain for him having put on nothing but a leather jacket over his woolly jumper. A less than brilliant decision in hindsight. He might possibly die of hypothermia before the match has even begun. It’s October for heaven’s sake, there is no reason for it to be this frigid. He’s fiddling with his phone, has already posted three snaps of himself singing along to whatever is playing on the stadium’s speakers, not at all bothered by the players warming up in front of them. They’re sitting fairly close, only a few rows from the sideline and Nick has no idea who Harry sold his soul to for these kind of seats.

“Cold today,” Harry remarks, sitting down next to him and burrowing further into the warmth of his coat. “Can’t believe you didn’t bring a hat or something.”

Nick attempts a glare but his face feels frozen and he’s not sure he manages. “What are they even doing, playing football in October? Surely a game that requires grass should be played during the summer?”

Harry only blinks at him in confusion. “The season began in August, Nick.”

Nick doesn’t deign to comment, too busy shivering to come up with something sassy enough. He’s reached the level of cold where it feels as if it’s grating on his bones and soon enough he’ll be nothing but a pile of dust spread by the wind. That’s when Harry suddenly hands over a travel mug. The glorious scent of coffee hits his nostrils when he pops the lid open, and honestly Nick could shed tears of happiness. He’s too grateful to even question where the Hell on his person Harry managed to stove away not one but two travel mugs, suspecting the pockets of Harry’s coat to possibly be magic somehow. “I love you,” he settles on, curling both hands around the mug which sadly doesn’t leak enough warmth to thaw his fingers.

“I know,” Harry agrees, nudging their shoulders together gently before something on the pitch catches his attention. “Oh, it’s about to start.”

Nick watches the two teams walk back out onto the grass, the cheering around them loud enough to make his head pound as the last remains of his hangover makes itself known. He is so far from a football fan it’s almost rude to be sitting in seats this good. He has been forced through enough games growing up that he can recognize Manchester United in their dark third colours, and pick out Wayne Rooney with the captain’s armband. He might think football is about as entertaining as a dentist appointment, but growing up in the Grimshaw household has at least forced him to pick up enough knowledge not to be completely clueless about what’s going on.

The match kicks off to the sound of Arsenal fans cheering with renewed force. Nick tries to pay attention for Harry’s sake, he really does, but soon enough he’s scrolling through Instagram, letting Harry’s muttered commentary wash over him without really paying attention.  
He’s tapping out a ‘like’ on one of his niece’s selfies when the sound around them suddenly increases in volume and catches his attention.

When Nick looks up in direction of the pitch he nearly chokes on his mouthful of coffee. There’s a throw in taking place right in front of them, a fairly advantageous opportunity for the home team, but Nick can’t focus on that. The Arsenal player standing behind the sideline, ball in his hands and number 28 splayed across his back, is fit. Really fit. In all honesty Nick can only see him from behind, but the first thing he notices is a quite spectacular bum and nicely muscled thighs and, well, football might have its redeeming aspects after all.

The name ‘Tomlinson’ is printed above the number, and it’s familiar somehow but Nick can’t quite place it. He watches the throw in, eyes glued to the flex of Tomlinson’s arms as the ball is thrown back into play. He follows the player with his eyes as he makes a rush onto the field and moves gracefully between two United players to get the ball back from one of his teammates and sprint towards the goal. Seconds later the ball is back in United’s possession, their fans cheering loudly as the home team scrambles to defend their goal. Nick watches Tomlinson shout something at his teammate, frustration etched into every line of his body. United waste their opportunity, and the game moves back into midfield in a much more sedated pace.

Nick is brought out of his musings when Harry smacks him in the shoulder with his matchday programme.

“Now you pay attention, huh.” He smirks, looking much too smug for Nick’s liking.

“You should be happy I’ve found a nuance to the game that deserves my attention.” He replies haughtily, and the look he gets in return is so unimpressed Nick frowns. “What? Don’t give me that look.”

“I was talking about your interest in that particular player.” Harry says, sipping his coffee and giving Nick an expectant look, sighing when Nick fails to make the connection. “That’s Louis Tomlinson.” Harry says, still looking at him like he’s lost the plot and Nick can only blink back in confusion until it hits him. Oh.

“Oh.”

“Yeah.”

“He came out, what, six months ago?” Nick asks, searching the pitch for Tomlinson’s profile and shapely bum. Harry hums distractedly; back to being too occupied with the game to pay much attention to Nick’s question.

It had been big news, the coming out, right at the end of last season. Louis Tomlinson hadn’t been the first player to come out in the Premier League – that title having gone to two other players a little over a year earlier – but at 25 years old he’s the youngest, and the only one still considered to be at the very peak of his career. There had been a Stonewall campaign aimed to help tackle homophobia in football with many footballers playing with rainbow laces to show their support. When the campaign came to an end Louis Tomlinson never stopped wearing them. There had been rumours and gossip after that, until an interview with the Guardian had officially put all rumours to rest. 

Nick sips his coffee, cherishing the warmth, only to nearly choke for a second time as Harry and most of the people around them jump to their feet, crying out. Manchester United has taken the lead.

“He’s nice.” Harry continues once he sits back down, as if there hadn’t been a five minute break in their conversation whilst he was too preoccupied to pay any attention to Nick and his ponderings. “Met him back in August at the Believe in Magic Ball, he does a lot of charity. Good fun, too.”

“He could do a charitable thing right now and take his shirt off.” Nick suggests idly, writing out a text to Aimee.

He’s still typing when Harry jolts next to him, grabbing hold of his arm hard enough to hurt even through the leather of his jacket. Seconds later the stadium erupts in celebration, flags in the air and people jumping up and down; all of it accompanied by Harry’s frustrated yelling.

There’s a group of Arsenal players huddled together close to one of the corner flags, hugging with huge grins on their faces, and Nick spots his new favourite right in time for him to grin and wave to the crowd as the speaker announces “An equalizer for Arsenal through number 28, Louis Tomlinson!” to the ecstatic cries of the home fans. Nick silently adds ‘nice smile’ to the list of Tomlinson’s qualities while Harry grumbles next to him.

The match ends 2-1 to Arsenal and Harry is so grumpy Nick has to buy him two drinks in the pub before he even stops scowling.

 

 

 

 

They end up talking about the match on the show the next day, because of course they do. Fiona comments on the amount of snaps Nick managed to send out, suggesting it had to be some kind of record and it all goes downhill after that. Nick goes off on a tangent about how dull a sport football really is, happily watching the indignant twitter mentions gathering to unusually high levels for a Monday morning.

“… And when someone finally managed to score a bloody goal they don’t even celebrate properly.”

“How would one celebrate a goal properly in your opinion?” Fiona asks, smirking at him from the other side of the table because she knows, because Nick might have complained about the very same thing earlier this morning, setting himself up for this very moment. Oh well.

“Well, if you’ve forced fifty-thousand-something people to sit and slowly die from hypothermia for nearly an hour of absolutely nothing, then the least you could do is take your shirt off, yeah? Tomlinson fills out his kit well, he could’ve done all of us a solid.”

Twitter goes into complete meltdown. Nick is quite proud. 

 

He doesn’t notice the tweet in his mentions until Douglas texts him later in the day, while he’s out in the park throwing a tennis ball to Pig. It’s a really nice day and they’ve been at it for nearly twenty minutes. Pig is deliriously happy and well, it’s contagious. His phone chimes to signal the incoming text as Pig runs off after the ball.

_you should check out @louis_tommo on twitter_

_why?_

_just do it_

Well that’s not ominous or anything. Nick opens the twitter app and types Tomlinson’s name into the search bar and fucking hell.

_louis_tommo: @grimmers you realize they card you for taking your shirt off? but sorry to disappoint !!_

Nick stares at the tweet, barely registering when Pig returns with her toy; expecting their usual tug of war. Louis Tomlinson tweeted him. Louis Tomlinson heard him wax poetic about his arse on live radio and is tweeting him. With a winking emoji to top it all off.

In the end, he slips his phone back into his coat pocket without replying, a little bothered by his own flustered reaction. He can do witty, alright? Talking shit and banter and being funny is what he does. There’s no reason a cheeky tweet from a footballer should leave him this tongue-tied.

It’s not until later that evening, back from sushi and one too many drinks with Alexa that he taps out a reply; stretched out on his sofa in nothing but his pants and an old too worn t-shirt, TV playing on mute in the background.

_grimmers: @louis_tommo I could settle for a selfie_

 

 

 

 

When Harry invites him to be his plus one to an event hosted by the London Switchboard Nick doesn’t think twice before accepting. Nights out with Harry are always fun and with him and Niall having been on tour for most of the year, Harry being around for a longer stretch of time still feels like a novelty.

So he puts some extra effort into his quiff and puts on a not-so-subtle cheetah print shirt that he’s been itching to wear out. He’s tucking the shirt into his black jeans and pulling on his blazer at the same time as his doorbell rings to signal Harry’s arrival.

The ballroom at the Waldorf Hilton is already full of people when they arrive, guests mingling happily around the circular tables and large plants wrapped in festive lights. With Harry having taken on the role of patron two years ago this is not the first time he’s brought Nick with him to an event like this. Switchboard has outdone themselves this time, Nick decides as they take their seats at the table. “Do you know why we’re here?” Nick stage-whispers to Niall as he sits down, happy to see a familiar face. 

“End of the year thing, I guess” Niall shrugs, greeting Nick with a sideways hug before he picks his pint back up and has a mouthful of beer before he continues, “And I think there’s a new patron being welcomed too.”

The night carries on with lots of delicious food, a steady flow of drinks and a charity auction that lifts the spirits of everyone attending even further. When the host welcomes Switchboard’s latest patron the whole room applauds while the name has Nick’s night coming to a screeching halt.

Because the name being called is Louis Tomlinson.

They’ve had no contact since their exchange on twitter a little over a week ago and given that London is a big town it feels like some kind of creepy serendipity that they’ve ended up in the same room now. Nick watches in rapt attention as Louis walks out onto the small stage, raising a hand in direction of the cheering guests. Fuck, he looks good. If Nick had thought that Louis filled out his football kit nicely it’s nothing compared to being assaulted by the sight of him in semi-formal wear. He’s got black jeans on, tight enough to inspire at least a dozen dirty fantasies if one was so inclined, the sleeves of his navy blazer rolled up to show off his tattoos.

Up on stage Louis has stepped up to the microphone and begun his speech. He’s got a Northern accent, Nick didn’t know about that and maybe it makes him like Louis a little bit more. Maybe.

“When I was four my dad took me to my first football game, and apparently I told him I wanted to be a footballer when I grew up before the halftime whistle.” Louis begins with a small smile playing on his lips. “When I was ten I realised that I wasn’t interested in girls the way my mates were, and I was thirteen the first time someone threw a slur after me on the pitch.” He continues, face sombre now, and Nick can only agree with the displeased murmur of the crowd.

“Four years later I moved to London to play football. I was excited and terrified. Excited because it was my dream come true, and terrified because I was young and on my own and scared shitless someone would find out I was gay and send me back to Doncaster. Because if there was one thing I thought I knew, it was that professional footballers couldn’t be gay.” Louis pauses then, looking out over the crowd, a self-deprecating twist to his lips. Nick finds himself holding his breath, chest aching for teenage Louis. 

Louis visibly squares his shoulders, eyes clear as he continues. “Things have changed since then, fortunately. I’ve been lucky enough to have a great support system in my family and closest friends, something that’s sadly not true for everyone in the LGBTQ+ community, and I know that Switchboard is a listening ear for many who need it. So it’s a huge honour for me to have been asked to step on board as a patron, and I am so proud to be able to raise awareness of this wonderful organization in any way that I can. So thank you, once again, to Switchboard for having me. I am so happy to be here tonight. Thank you.”

The applause that follows is thunderous, and Louis looks a little taken back as he smiles at the crowd, bringing his hands together in silent thanks. Nick is horribly endeared and well, that’s simply not okay. It’s one thing for Louis Tomlinson to have thighs that look like they’re sculpted by gods, and be sassy and fun on twitter. It’s completely unacceptable for him to be soft spoken and sincere at a charity event on top of that; it makes Nick’s insides go all twisty and warm and he’s too old to have a crush on a footballer.

The room gets louder as the night carries on; once everyone has finished their meal the bar opens at the end of the room and soon enough people are gravitating towards a makeshift dancefloor. Nick’s on his third drink, enjoying the buzz he’s got going and laughing at a story one of Harry’s friends is telling when it happens. Harry interrupts his conversation with Niall to raise his hand in greeting, grin smiling widely, and then suddenly Louis is right there.

Louis up close really is something for the books. He’s so pretty. Nick’s not quite sure where to put his hands, left fiddling with the straw in his glass and trying not to appear too awkward. He wishes there was a handbook on how to act when coming face to face with the guy you’ve waxed poetic about on radio and semi-kind-of flirted with on twitter because he’s struggling. Louis has finished his introductions with the others in their group, and is looking right at Nick, a smile tugging at his lips and fuck, he’s gorgeous.

“Still persisting with the shirts, I see.” Nick quips, and then proceeds to wish for his own imminent death.

Louis blinks, not replying immediately and Nick spends that time contemplating a move to a land far, far away; but then Louis’ entire face crinkles, head tilted back as he laughs. He quiets down eventually, reaching his hand out for Nick to shake. “I guess it’s a bit redundant at this point but - I’m Louis.”

Nick smiles, trying desperately not to pay too much attention to the way Louis’ hand is engulfed by his own. “Nick.”

“We’re patron buddies now,” Harry interjects, and Nick doesn’t miss the smug look Harry sends in his direction. Apparently his moment of panic hadn’t gone by completely unnoticed. “Congratulations, mate.”

Louis’ smile turns soft around the edges, and Nick finds his eyes drawn to the way he pushes his fringe out of his face with flick of his wrist.

“Yeah, congratulations,” he echoes. ”Great speech up there.” He could swear Louis blushes a little at that, looking down briefly before he looks back up at Nick and wow, his eyes are ridiculously blue. The fan blogs Nick might have accidently stumbled across on Tumblr hadn’t been wrong. 

“Thank you.” Louis says, sincerely, before his eyes light up with mischief. “Now, Nick Grimshaw, tell me about this aversion you have to people wearing their shirts. Is it a phobia? A Freudian thing?”

Harry loses it laughing, nearly choking on his drink. Nick doesn’t blush, he doesn’t, but he might appreciate Harry’s coughing when it offers him a few seconds to think of something to say in response. “It’s the lycra.” He manages to keep a straight face, barely looks away as Harry excuses himself and he finds himself alone with Louis. “Childhood trauma. I don’t talk about it much.” He fakes a shudder, hiding his smile in his drink.

“Right.” Louis nods, eyes twinkling with mirth. Nick kind of wants to reach out and touch hint of a dimple in his cheek. “This one’s not lycra though.”

“Are you sure? If you take it off we can check the little tag, just in case.” He can hear himself speak, yet finds it hard to believe the words coming out of his mouth. He’s really telling Louis to take his shirt off, to his face. Wow.

“It’s not that kind of event, Nicholas.” Louis grins, tugging at the collar of his shirt. “What would the good people of Switchboard say if I turned tonight into a striptease?”

“I’m sure it would inspire enough spontaneous donations for them to look the other way.” Nick deadpans, ridiculously proud when Louis throws his head back, laughing.

They spend the better part of the next half hour talking, and even though Nick talks for a living, he’s still a little shocked by how easy conversation flows. Louis is just as funny and easy-going in person as he has seemed on twitter, with a self-deprecating and sassy sense of humour that has Nick belly laughing loud enough to draw attention from other guests standing close by.

Not to mention how he would very much like to find out what Louis tastes like.

Much too soon for Nick’s liking other guests demand Louis’ attention, and Louis excuses himself with a ‘nice meeting you, mate’, and a hand squeezing Nick’s biceps.

Nick returns to the others just in time for Niall to show up with shots, and feeling a little disjointed doesn’t hesitate to knock back two in quick succession. The night turns kind of blurry after that, and when Nick stumbles into bed at three o’clock in the morning he is asleep within seconds.

He wakes up to @louis_tommo following him on twitter.

 

 

 

 

A few days later they’re playing Bieber on the show and Fiona is off to get more coffee when Nick checks his phone and finds a DM on twitter from Louis. He’d hit ‘follow’ as soon as he’d recovered from the shock, and Louis’ tweets have quickly become one of the highlights in his feed.

Startled, he looks around to make sure no one is looking his way before he opens the message. A little silly maybe, but his team is a gossipy bunch and he definitely doesn’t feel like sharing this, whatever it is, just yet. He hadn’t expected them to interact to be honest. He’d thought about it, of course, would rather not admit it but Louis has crossed his mind once or twice in the last couple of days.

_Bieber is so shit pls the message reads._

Nick has to laugh, quickly schooling his features when Fiona shoots him a questioning look as she walks through the door. He accepts the cup she offers him and checks the computer before replying.

_Kodaline next, is that better?_

While he waits for Louis to reply he takes a moment to silently freak out. Louis listens to the show. Sure, Nick already knew he’d heard them talking about him that time but this is different. It’s only a little after eight o’clock in the morning, and twice is a pattern. He’s not sure what to do with that information. When his phone buzzes a few seconds later he moves so quickly he nearly strains something, earning himself another puzzled look from Fiona that he skilfully ignores.

_Anything’s better than Bieber_

Nick hides his smile in his cup, bopping his head along to the new song. It’s not common for him to be texting during work, and he knows it’s only a matter of moments before someone asks him about it. He doesn’t want to stop talking to Louis, is the problem.

_What are you up to? Besides bothering me while I’m working?_

Two messages pop in quick succession.

_Early training. No traffic so I got here too early :(  
Sorry, I should prob let you work_

Nick types quickly, with a brief glance at the countdown to make sure he’s not missing something important.

_No. Me texting is confusing my producer, I love it_

Apparently that’s all it takes to encourage a whole string of DM’s about Louis’ morning and the various songs they’ve played so far. It’s not until he nearly misses a link because he’s snickering at Louis’ live commentary of his teammates’ fashion choices as they walk into the dressing room - causing Fiona to throw a pencil aimed at his face - that he’s forced to put his phone away.

 

 

 

 

Arsenal FC has a twitter, and an official Instagram because they’re horrible enablers and want Nick to suffer.

The Instagram is particularly awful, Nick decides, after spending a good twenty minutes scrolling through it on a Wednesday night. They post a lot, and most of it is pictures of the first team’s training sessions or matches.

Louis appears in more than a few, either looking knife sharp and focused or horsing around with his team mates with a huge grin on his face. He tends to bundle up, Nick notices, finds him with a hat pushed down low and wearing woolly gloves in most of the pictures from outdoor training.  
He’s got a nice smile, one that makes him go all squinty eyed and Nick likes looking at him.

He doesn’t follow them, would never hear the end of it from his friends if any of them found out. But it doesn’t take long before he doesn’t have to type more than an “a” into the search bar for the account to show up.

 

 

 

 

It’s a busy afternoon at The Landsdowne. Nick is tucked away in a corner table with Pixie and Douglas and Alexa. They’re finishing up their meals, their server arriving with new drinks and clearing their plates when it happens. It’s unexpected, and if Nick believed in fairy-tale things as fate and such, he’d think someone was trying to tell him something. He’s looking out over the room, listening to a story Alexa’s telling, when Louis walks through the door.

Nick has a moment of panic where he actually considers hiding, briefly wondering if he would fit under the table, and it makes no sense but neither does Louis being there. In Nick’s pub, where he has spent too many days and nights to count and drunk too many drinks and smoked too many cigarettes and talked to strangers about cute dogs.

“Babes, what are you looking at?” Pixie is trying to catch his attention, elbowing him lightly in the ribs and it’s hard to drag his eyes away from Louis but he tries, has no idea what his friends are talking about anymore and doesn’t really care. From the corner of his eye he can see Louis walk in direction of the bar. He is accompanied by a guy with a beard that looks strangely familiar, who in turn has his arm around a stylish brunette.

Pixie is still eyeing him suspiciously, waiting for an explanation to his strange behaviour, but he ignores it for now. A part of him wants to find an excuse, any excuse really, to walk up to the bar and find out where Louis disappeared to.

In the end he doesn’t have to. Only a few minutes later Louis and his friends walk over to their side of the pub, drinks in hand, and Nick can’t help but stare, barely breathing, until it finally happens. Louis spots him right as they’re pulling up enough chairs to have a seat around a table that has just been vacated. Nick can barely suppress the full body flinch, a little embarrassed from having been caught staring, but can’t help but notice the way Louis’ whole face seem to light up at the sight of him.

He sits up a little straighter as Louis walks over to them with his pint in hand. He can tell that Pixie and Alexa have both picked up on his soaring stress levels, and are watching him with matching confused looks.

“Hello, Nick Grimshaw.” Louis says, reaching out to place a hand on Nick’s shoulder, squeezing gently. His touch is warm through Nick’s denim shirt, sending shivers down spine.

“Hello, Louis Tomlinson.” He gets out, noticing that Douglas definitely seem a little star struck and if Nick wasn’t so focused on not making a fool out of himself he’d find a way to tease him mercilessly right now. “What brings you here?”

“Third-wheeling.” Louis replies with an eye roll in direction of his friends, who are both making their way over. “Apparently spending my day on the sofa binge watching Friends was ‘too sad’ so they forced me to come out. I’m Louis, by the way. This is Sophia and Liam.” Louis finishes as his friends come up to them, addressing Nick’s group, and there are introductions all around. Nick can tell the exact moment the girls catch on to who Louis is, and has to kick Pixie lightly in the shin before she manages to blurt out something too revealing. Like how Nick might have gotten drunk last weekend and spent a good three minutes lamenting over Louis eyelashes.

“Big fan.” Douglas grins, shaking Louis’ offered hand, but nodding at his friend too. “That goal against Man U was brilliant.”

“Cheers.” Louis grins, raising his pint in toast. “Anyway, we’ll leave you to it. It was good to see you.” He continues, only looking at Nick and it’s, well, it’s a lot.

“Yeah, you too.” He gets out, ignoring the way Pixie is digging her fingers into his thigh in excitement, and Louis retreats with a last squeeze of Nick’s shoulder.

They stay for long enough to finish their drinks, Nick working hard not to turn around every time there’s the faintest sound of Louis’ voice sifting through the air. Eventually Alexa has to get going, and Nick realizes that he really ought to get back home to Pig or she’ll be grumpy and act like a diva for the rest of the night. The girls disappear in direction of the toilets, and Nick gets to his feet as Douglas walk up to the bar to settle their bill.

He really wants to say goodbye to Louis, is the problem. It’s a little ridiculous, but he can’t help but dawdle as he pulls on his coat. When he can’t stall any longer without looking like an idiot he gets moving, and someone upstairs must like him because Louis looks up from his conversation as Nick walks by. He nods lightly, smile tugging at the corner of his mouth and Nick raises his hand in a short wave, immediately feeling like a knob. At once eager to get out he signals to Douglas that he’s stepping out for a smoke as they wait, walking briskly through the busy pub.

When he makes it home he takes Pig on her walk, shivering in the cold and silently begging her to hurry up. He can’t help but think of Louis as he ambles along the road, head tilted down against the biting wind. Pig is nosing along happily, unbothered by the cold. He keeps wondering if he should have asked Louis and his friends to join them, kept conversation going, done anything, really, to keep Louis around a little longer. His own inability to act on his feelings once he’s genuinely interested in someone has never bothered him as much as it does now.

He thinks himself into a bit of a huff, and once they make their way back home he kicks off his boots and heads straight for his bedroom. His checks his phone with one hand as he unbuttons his jeans, preparing for a shower so scalding it will burn away all the frustration.

There’s a DM waiting, and his heartbeat spikes when he sees Louis’ twitter handle in the preview.

_I’d really like to see you again_

Nick lets go of the phone as if he has been burned. It bounces on the mattress, causing Pig to look up from where she’s been making herself comfortable at the foot of the bed.

Louis wants to see him.

He forces himself to breathe deeply, runs a hand through his hair and winces as it catches on a tangle. Right. It probably doesn’t make sense to be freaking out but he is. He might have just spent a good twenty minutes wishing he could spend more time with Louis, but it actually becoming a possibility is daunting. He finds himself walking circles around his phone as he gets ready for his shower, barely sparing it a look. Once he’s finished he takes his time moisturising and drying his hair.

Finally fed up with his own cowardice half an hour later he picks his phone up, typing out a quick reply before he can chicken out.

_Just name a time and place_

 

 

 

 

Nick might possibly be dying.

It’s the only reasonable explanation for the panicked beating of his heart against his ribcage and the way he feels approximately five seconds away from throwing up. It’s not nerves, definitely not, because being this nervous before a date is absurd. 

It makes no sense. He’s been on plenty of first dates, this is nothing new. The only new thing about this scenario is that he hasn’t told anyone about it, not even Aimee. He’s not sure why, over-sharing is definitely not frowned upon in his circle of friends, yet no one knows about tonight except for Pig. A quick glance down at his watch tells him he’s right on time. The car can’t be more than a few minutes away from the restaurant and it’s almost seven thirty.

The Lebanese restaurant Louis had suggested doesn’t look posh at all, quite the opposite actually. It’s rather small; simple wooden tables lining the room, lit by candles on the tables and lanterns hanging from the ceiling. It’s a bit crowded, most of the tables occupied. Nick isn’t sure what he had expected, but he’s pleasantly surprised at the relaxed atmosphere of the place. Louis is already there, waiting at a table down in the corner. He gets to his feet as Nick walks over, offering him a smile and a quick hug.

Nick returns the hug, noticing the clean scent of Louis’ cologne and the way his arm wraps around Nick’s back. It’s enough to settle the butterflies going on a rampage in his stomach, a molten anticipation taking their place.

“Good to see you.” Louis says, gesturing for Nick to take a seat and following his example as he does. “I hope this is okay.” Louis continues, pausing as the waitress stops by to fill up Nick’s glass of water. “I know it doesn’t look like much but the food is great.”

“Yeah?” Nick says, working hard not to stare too blatantly obviously at the way Louis’ sweater falls across his shoulders. He can barely remember the last time he was this attracted to someone. “I’m not that well wandered in Lebanese food, might need you to tell me what’s good.”

“I usually go with the meze, order a bit of everything.” Louis explains, fiddling with his water glass. “Or, you know, let the waitress decide for me because I’m rubbish at remembering what I’ve already tried or not.”

“You come here often, then?”

Louis grins, quick and sharp. “I live not far from here. And they do take-out if you ask nicely.”

Nick can’t help but return the smile, picturing the amount of sweet-talking it might have required. “Did you bribe them?”

“Lies and slander,” Louis mock gasps, “Now shut up and read your menu, there’s a good lad.”

Nick does as he’s told, but not without knocking his boot against Louis’ leg, smiling when Louis’ returns the playful gesture. They decide to go for Louis’ usual method; ordering a whole list of mezes. When their waitress arrives to take their order it’s obvious that she has recognized both of them. She’s a little flustered at first but quickly returns to an efficient, charming professionalism that Nick really appreciates. They chat as they wait, enjoying the bustling atmosphere and the cold beer.

Soon enough their order arrives, and the table is quickly covered in different dishes. The food is, as Louis promised, delicious. It makes for a fun meal too, trying different combinations and ooh-ing over the deliciousness of it all. Nick learns that Louis is a bit of a foodie, so pleased with every new dish he finds that he likes that it’s hard for Nick to keep from smiling.

Later, Nick looks up from using his last piece of bread to mop up the sauce on his plate to find Louis looking at him with a small smile on his face. “What?” He says, hiding his mouth behind his hand as he chews. “Do I have sauce on my face or something?”

Louis’ smile widens a bit, and he has a sip of his beer before he speaks. “I could make a ‘that’s what she said’ reference right now-”

“Please don’t.” Nick interjects, pulling a face.

Louis chuckles, tugging at the neckline of his sweater. He looks a bit like he’s gearing up for something, and Nick finishes chewing as he waits.

“I’m happy we did this.” Louis says, eventually. “And you haven’t complained about me wearing a jumper once, I feel like we’re making real progress here, Grimshaw.”

“It’s a nice jumper.” He shrugs, probably failing at playing it cool, and watches Louis’ eyes light up at the comeback. It’s the truth, Louis’ jumper is really nice; its purple accents making it something Nick hadn’t expected him to wear and the fit is perfect. “And, uhm, me too. I’m happy too.”

He texts Aimee on the way home, tired but feeling like it might be hours before he could fall asleep; too jittery from a night well spent. It’s a simple ‘so I went on a date with Louis Tomlinson tonight’ and her answering rows of exclamation marks is a very apt description of how he feels too.

 

 

 

 

“Hey, we match.” Louis says, reaching out to brush a thumb over Nick’s triangle tattoo.

It’s electric, that small touch, sending shivers down his spine. They have seen each other a couple of times over the last two weeks. There has been another dinner, at a bustling Italian place Nick likes, and a lunch that was cut short when Nick got stuck in traffic and Louis had an afternoon practice to get to. So there’s been three meals, but no kissing, and Nick is quite possibly losing his mind a little over that particular fact. He might think Louis wasn’t interested in taking it further than friends if it wasn’t for the flirting. The obvious, thrilling, flirting and more of these little fleeting touches than Nick can count.

“We do?” He replies once he finds his voice, missing the touch the moment Louis’ thumb leaves his skin.

Louis nods, sticking his leg out from under the table and angling his ankle awkwardly in Nick’s direction. His jeans are rolled up and the triangle is clearly visible and not that different in size from Nick’s own.

“I got it when I turned 18.” Louis tells him, “It was my first one, actually, but I got it done at the same time as the one on my arm, so no one really payed any attention to it.”

“The one on your arm?”

“This one.” He clarifies, pushing the sleeve of his sweatshirt up to show Nick the ‘given a chance’ on his left arm.

Nick has an idea of what the words stand for and it makes something in his chest swell. It’s so perfectly Louis. “I like that one.”

“Yeah,” Louis agrees, “It’s my favourite.”

Nick has another sip of his cappuccino, wrapping his fingers around the cup. They’re tucked away in a corner of a Hampstead coffee shop, the place is remarkably quiet given that it’s nearing two o’clock and they haven’t been interrupted by anyone since they arrived. It’s nice, comfortable. Nick finished work at noon, and having an afternoon off still feels like a novelty at times, with last year’s X Factor craziness still not that far away. He appreciates the experience, of course, but it had been stressful and a little disappointing to really get a sense of how the behind-the-scenes stuff worked. Not to mention that Simon Cowell is a heartless bastard, but honestly he had expected that going in. Louis is on his way to afternoon training, right now looking more than a uni student in his skinny jeans and zip-up sweatshirt, than the millionaire footballer he really is.

“Didn’t anyone comment on it?” Nick asks, nodding in direction of Louis foot. “It’s not really that subtle, innit?”

“I think most people see what they want to see.” Louis replies, spearing a last piece of tomato on his fork. “Even if someone knew what it was, it’s still so taboo, you know? Kind of a ‘don’t ask, don’t tell’ thing. When I came out there was a magazine who called it my ‘secret rebellion’.” Louis continues, still pushing the fork around his plate absentmindedly, “It wasn’t, not really. I wanted something for me, a reminder maybe, about the stuff I couldn’t really talk about.”

Nick speaks before he can think twice about it. “What made you-“ He cuts himself off, internally face-palming at his own lack of filter. 

“What made me decide to come out?” Louis finishes for him.

Cringing, Nick nods. “Yeah. Sorry, that’s really none of my business.”

“It’s okay.” Louis says, smiling softly. He sits up straighter in his seat and fiddles with his cutlery, but looks up at Nick as he continues, “It was twofold. I, uhm, had a thing with a friend of mine for a while. We were in the same situation, and it was easy. Good. Friends helping each other.”

“With orgasms.”

Louis chuckles at that, pushing his fringe away from where it has fallen into his eyes. “Yeah. But then he signed with a Spanish club, and well, I guess I realized how hard it would be, actually being with someone? And then the club did a campaign with Stonewall last year, and there was all this talk about fighting homophobia in the game and-“ He trails off and Nick has to fight the urge to reach for his hand, a little surprised by his sudden need to touch. Louis clears his throat, pushing his fringe away from his forehead again. It’s a tell, Nick realizes, that tiny show of self-consciousness. 

“I realized what a difference I could make, if I was out and eventually the fact that I wasn’t kinda made me think less of myself. So, that’s why, I guess.”

“There’s nothing wrong about being in the closet.” Nick reminds him carefully, still itching to reach out and touch him. “It doesn’t make you less.”

“Oh, I know.” Louis agrees, “It was just… I was doing pretty well on the team, I’d been called up a few times. Things were good. I felt like the only thing that was stopping me was that I was scared, and I don’t like fear getting in the way of what I want.”

For a moment Nick can only stare back at him, a little awed, if he’s honest and convinced Louis doesn’t give himself enough credit for his bravery. “Thanks for telling me.” He settles with, in the end, and Louis ducks his head, looks away. Nick busies himself with a quick glance at his phone, slipping it back into his coat pocket as Louis speaks up again.

“Are you going to finish that?”

Nick looks up from his coffee to find Louis eyeing what is left of his chicken wrap, and pushes the plate across the table. It’s an obvious change of topic, but he’ll allow it. “Have at it.”

Louis makes a delighted noise, quickly picking it up and Nick tries his best not to be horribly endeared.

“I’m going to be running around Colney all afternoon, I need the calories.” Louis defends himself, chewing contentedly.

“Sure you do,” Nick drawls, “Or do you still carry the illusion of being a ‘growing boy’? I’m sorry to be the one to break it to you, but you’ll never leave the pint-sized spectrum.”

“Oi,” Louis frowns in mock-annoyance, kicking him gently in the shin. “None of that. ‘Pint-sized’” He scoffs. “I’m taller than Messi.”

“Who?”

Louis freezes, chicken wrap still in his hand. He looks positively stricken. “Oh my God, Nicholas, please tell me you’re joking right now.”

Nick manages to keep a straight face for a glorious few seconds. It’s totally worth the second kick in the shin he gets as a reward.

They spend another twenty minutes talking before Louis has to leave. He stretches languidly as he gets to his feet and Nick can’t help the way he can’t take his eyes off of him. The whole fancying Louis rotten thing really hasn’t been helped much by the two of them spending time together. A part of him is still waiting for something to go wrong. Nick has never been good at dating, not really. He grows bored easily, becomes fed up with the expectations and the games or the guy himself. It feels different with Louis. Fun. Definitely not a hardship even if thinking about him an average of five dozen times a day is definitely affecting Nick’s ability to do his job.

They walk out of the coffee shop together, close enough for their shoulders to brush. They’ve both managed to park not too far from the door, on opposite sides of the street. A true London miracle. Louis follows him over to his car, hands shoved deep into the pockets of his parkas. It’s miserable out, misty rain covering everything and the sky is nothing but shades of grey.

Nick turns his collar up in an attempt to escape the drizzle, turning to face Louis when they reach the car. “Well, this was fun,” he says, opening his arms to pull Louis into a hug. Louis comes easily, wrapping an arm around Nick’s waist.

“It was,” Louis agrees, still standing a little closer to be completely casual. He still has a firm grip around Nick, so close he has to look up a bit to look Nick in the eyes. There’s a fine layer of misty rain coating his fringe. Nick can’t look away, breath catching in his throat when Louis’ gaze flickers to his mouth. He can’t remember the time he wanted to kiss someone the way he wants to kiss Louis in that moment. He watches Louis wet his lips, but then falters as he steps back, clearing his throat.

“I should go.”

Nick blinks, speechless for a moment before he recovers. “Okay. See you later?”

Louis nods, pushing his fringe back with a well-practiced flick of his wrist. It looks as if he’s about to say something else, but in the end he walks off with a wave.

Nick watches Louis cross the street and unlock his Aston Martin before getting into his own car. He tries not to feel disappointed but his lips are still tingling with the promise of that not kiss. His phone buzzes in his pocket as he drives off but he ignores it, can hear his sister nagging him about road safety at the back of his mind. He’s home fifteen minutes later, singing along to Beyoncé as he parks between a beat-up Ford and a huge SUV. Unfastening his seatbelt he fishes his phone out of his pocket before he’s even turned off the ignition, finding a text from Louis that must have been sent before he even started the drive to Colney.

_I really wanted to kiss you_

Nick’s smile threatens to split his face in two. He reads it over several times, head bopping along to Beyoncé belting out 7/11 and stomach filled with butterflies. The reply doesn’t take long to come up with, and he doesn’t think twice before pushing ‘send’.

_I would have let you_

It’s another thirty minutes later before he gets a reply, and he figures Louis must have been on the road.

_Next time_

Nick talks for a living, he’s good with words. He can’t remember the last time two words held so much promise.

_I’ll hold you to it_

 

 

 

 

Nick is pacing back and forth in his living room when the doorbell rings. He nearly trips over his own feet in his haste to get to the door, shushing Pig who’s barking up a storm and really, he should work on that. He gets a firm grip on her collar before he pulls the door open to reveal Louis on his front steps. Louis looks good, at some point Nick might get used to the sight of him but it’s not today. He’s got on the black parka Nick likes so much, hair hidden underneath a snapback. It shouldn’t work, should make him look like a teenager instead of twenty-five, but it does.

“Pig, quiet,” he demands, pulling her back and not giving in until she’s sitting down, waiting with barely-concealed impatience for Louis to step over the threshold. “Sorry-“

“It’s okay,” Louis chuckles, dropping to a crouch and reaching a hand out for Pig to sniff. She licks his fingers, and he laughs, petting her head. “Hiya, Pig, nice to meet you.”

Nick lets her go once he’s sure she won’t assault his guest, watching as Pig and Louis acquaint themselves with each other. He leans back against the wall, watching as Louis stands back up, shrugging out of his coat. He hangs it on the hook next to the door, stepping out of his shoes and then, finally, turns all of his attention to Nick.

“Hi.” He says, looking at Nick from under his lashes as he drops his hat on the hall table and fixes his hair.

“Hi. Did you find your way okay?”

“Sat nav.” Louis explains with a shrug.

He has a dark green jumper on, it looks soft to the touch and Nick wants to kiss him. Silence stretches out, Pig still sniffing around the hall happily.

“It’s next time.” Louis says, eventually, and the air around them suddenly feels charged. Nick shifts his weight, suddenly unsure of where to put his hands.

“It is.” He agrees, finally, running a hand through his hair and probably messing it up as he does.

It’s hard to say who moves first, but suddenly Louis is right in front of him, deliciously close. For a long, drawn-out second they do nothing but look at each other, Louis’ eyes so very, very blue, and then they’re kissing.

Nick had a feeling it would be good but this is surpassing his expectations. It starts out a little careful, but deepens quickly. Louis is the one to push for more, curling a hand around Nick’s jaw and offering a touch of tongue.

They break apart eventually, with a last, innocent peck. Nick is thankful for the wall behind him, feeling more than a little weak in the knees and has to swallow down the urge to laugh out loud at the bone-melting physical reaction he’s having to a simple kiss.

“You mentioned dinner?” Louis says, wiping the corner of his mouth with his thumb and sending a million indecent images flashing through Nick’s brain.

“Right,” He clears his throat. “Yes. It’s almost finished, I hope lasagne is okay?”

“You made lasagne?” Louis sounds surprised.

“I did?”

“I’m impressed.”

Nick shrugs. “It’s really not that difficult. Do you cook?”

Louis nods, following him down the hall. “Kinda had to learn, what with leaving home when I was seventeen. Can’t exactly live off take out and cereal doing what I do. Kind of lazy with it, though, to be honest.”

Nick walks ahead of Louis into the kitchen, the room filled with the scent of their dinner cooking. Louis has fallen behind, taking a detour around the big dining table, looking out the glass doors.

“I like your place. It suits you.”

Nick preens a bit at the comment. He does too; loves his flat and all of his bits and bobs. It’s taken him a lot of money and a lot of time getting it the way he wants. “Thank you.”

“What can I do?” Louis asks from behind him as Nick pulls out bags of vegetables from the fridge.

“’s okay, you don’t have to do anything.”

“I want to.” Louis says, wrapping an arm around Nick’s waist and looking up at him with a soft smile. Nick has to kiss him then, but soon they’re both smiling too big for it to be much more than teeth clacking together.

“Salad, then.” Nick allows, hip-checking him in direction of the cutting board waiting on the counter.

Louis gets to work, humming along to the Weeknd playing on Nick’s portable speakers. Nick checks on the lasagne baking in the oven and pleased with what he finds gets to work on the dishes in the sink. It’s nice the two of them working side by side. He finishes quickly handing Louis a bowl for the salad and goes to set the table.

When he has finished he finds that Louis has too, entering the kitchen to find him carefully rinsing the knife. Nick leans back against the counter, arms crossed over his chest, watching Louis wash his hands and dry them off on a novelty towel that says “butter my biscuit.” It was a gift in a secret Santa at work last year, and Nick has yet to figure out who was behind it.

“Now,” Louis smirks, turning to Nick and crowding him against the countertop “where were we?”

There’s a completely over-the-top eyebrow wriggle to accompany the question, startling a laugh out of Nick. It doesn’t keep him from sliding a hand up Louis’ arm though, resting it at his nape. Louis’ lips are soft against his, stubble scraping Nick’s chin.

Nick loses all sense of time, too focused on Louis lips on his; the way they fit together. He’d almost forgotten what it was like to kiss just to kiss, to let it be it's own thing and not only the way to something more. He’d like the ‘more’, but it doesn’t feel too urgent, for now he kind of likes the slow-burning heat building in the pit of his stomach and Louis’ hand steadily clutching his hip. 

When the timer on the oven beeps they both startle, breaking the kiss, and Louis breathes out a laugh against his neck.

“Shit.” He chuckles, squeezing Nick’s hip before stepping back and Nick can only agree.

Dinner has rarely felt like a worse idea. His legs feel like jelly when he walks over to the oven. He can hear Louis move behind him and forces himself to focus on what he’s doing instead of looking at him. Third degree burns is not the kind of hot he’s hoping for tonight. He gets the dish out on the table, crashing into Louis as he turns back around.

“Whoa.” Louis says, reaching around him to place the salad bowl on the table, with a hand on Nick’s biceps. Nick wouldn’t mind spreading him out on the table and having him for dinner instead. There’s a second or two where he contemplates it; pushing everything to the floor and just go with the idea, the air crackling around them and making it hard to breathe. Louis’ hand is still on his arm, he can feel the touch like a burn through the fabric of his shirt. 

“Smells good.” Louis says, and Nick can barely process the words at first, head spinning with want.

“Huh?”

“Let’s eat.” Louis suggests, pulling out a chair and Nick can only stare at him for a moment before joining him at the table.

Dinner is a study in barely contained impatience. It takes them a few minutes to get a conversation going, and it’s only because Louis starts asking questions about the X Factor, seeming genuinely interested in Nick’s experiences on the show. They’re sitting next to one another, Louis at the head of the table and Nick to his left, legs tangled together. Nick feels buzzed despite the fact that neither of them have even finished their one glass of wine. Louis has already explained that he doesn’t drink a lot during the season, and Nick finds himself unwilling to top up only his own glass.

He clears the table once they’ve finished, and when he walks back into the living room he barely has time to react before Louis is in his personal space, breathing out a ‘fucking finally’ against his lips before kissing him. There’s nothing hesitant about it this time. Louis’ hands are everywhere, roaming over Nick’s back, cradling his jaw, kisses deep and sure.

Nick blindly tries to move them closer to the sofa, knocking his shin against the coffee table and letting out a sound of pain against Louis’ lips. He flails, ends up collapsing on the sofa and then Louis is right there, on his lap, pushing him back into the cushions. Nick lets him, clutching at Louis thighs greedily. He sucks in a breath, head falling back as Louis mouths against his throat, sucking a mark into the skin below his ear.

Closing the gap between their mouths, Nick sighs into the kiss as he slips his hands up and finally gets a handful of Louis’ bum. He squeezes roughly, massaging the ample muscles, both of them groaning into the kiss as Louis grinds against him.

“Christ, the bum on you.” Nick gasps out, nose pressed against Louis’ cheek.

“I’ve been thinking about this.” Louis says, lips against Nick’s jaw, nipping the skin. “Thinking about your hands, your mouth. Fuck, you’re fit.”

Nick can barely make sense of what he’s saying, too busy getting his hands on naked skin. He slides both hands up underneath Louis’ jumper, finally making contact with soft, warm skin and already feeling like he could never get enough of this. He lets his hands wander, tracing the knobs of Louis’ spine, the edge of his shoulder blades. Louis is squirming on his lap creating maddening, delicious friction, placing wet kisses down Nick’s throat, hands fisted in his hair.

Eventually Louis scoots back, Nick’s hands ending up curled at his sides. He looks positively mouth-watering, his hair a mess and lips a little swollen. Nick can already feel the burn from his stubble on his cheeks. Louis smirks, reaching down to trail a teasing finger over the Nick’s bulge, grin widening at the shudder he causes. “Take me to bed?”

Nick can only nod, hips moving helplessly to search out more friction and nearly whines in frustration when Louis removes his hand. It takes him a moment to gather enough wits to sit up, following Louis as he gets to his feet.

They hurry down the hall to the bedroom, hand in hand. Nick is relieved to realize that Pig is staying behind, curled up on her dog bed. He shuts the door once they’re inside the bedroom, watching as Louis walks over to his bedside table and turns on the light. He keeps watching in rapt attention as Louis takes off his jumper and t-shirt in one, swift move, turning towards Nick as he lets the bundle drop to the floor.

Louis is gorgeous. All tanned and well-proportioned and Nick is fairly sure he sees abs and it’s intimidating. He’s suddenly much too aware of his own shortcomings in that particular area. Louis is around professional athletes all day, shares a dressing room with a whole group of them, and Nick can barely get his ass down to the gym on a weekly basis. He falters a bit, but doesn’t think twice about sinking into it as Louis walks up and kisses him.

Kissing is easy, kissing is totally he can do. He can’t help but flinch a little though, the moment Louis hands move to the buttons on his shirt, and Louis pulls back to look him in the eyes.

“You okay?”

“Yeah,” Nick says, wincing a bit at the hoarse sound of his own voice. “I’m good.”

Louis reassumes work on the buttons, hands sliding over the skin he uncovers. Nick watches him work, shivering when Louis is finished and finally pushes his shirt off his shoulders, the air in the room suddenly feeling too cold. He tries to hide it, wants to drown out the last dredges of trepidation but it’s not that long before Louis pulls back, brow furrowed.

“Do I make you nervous, Grimshaw?”

“No.” Nick lies, resisting the urge to cross his arms over his chest. Louis isn’t having it though.

“Liar.” He objects kindly, reaching out to touch the charms on Nick’s necklace. “We don’t have to do this now, you know.”

Nick’s heart swells at the sincerity in his voice. He sets his jaw, a little frustrated with his suddenly developed insecurities. “Well, you’re-“ he doesn’t know how to put it into words, ends up gesturing in Louis’ general direction. “You, and I’m, well, me and-“

“I’mma need you to stop right there.” Louis interrupts his rant. He steps right back into Nick’s personal space, placing a light hand against his ribs. His eyes are serious when he looks up at Nick. He reaches out to catch Nick’s hand in his carefully. “I don’t know if you’ve noticed,” he begins, a breathy quality to his voice that Nick really, really likes. He pulls Nick’s hand down slowly, giving him ample time to free himself, before he places Nick’s hand against his dick. He’s hard against Nick’s palm, obvious even through the fabric of his jeans. Nick cups his hand without thinking twice about it, taking in the shudder that runs through Louis as he does.

“But I’m kind of extremely into you.” Louis gasps, hips twitching and fingers digging into Nick’s ribs.

“Yeah?” Nick gets out, so, so turned on and relishing the way Louis squirms against him. It sends a jolt of electricity through his bloodstream, burning away the last of his insecurities.

“Yes.” Louis grinds out, hand sliding over Nick’s chest down to clutch at the waistline of his jeans, giving it a tug. “Now get naked.”

“Bossy,” Nick chuckles, brushing his lips down Louis’ throat and feeling him tremble, hand clutching Nick’s shoulders hard. “Okay. Yes, let’s-”

There’s another impatient tug at one of his belt hoops. “Get them off, get them off.” Louis chants, and Nick has to laugh, chuckling as Louis pops the button open and tugs desperately at the unyielding denim. His chuckle is swallowed by a kiss, Louis licking into his mouth as he pushes Nick’s jeans down his thighs. They have to stop kissing soon enough, Nick reaching down to finally take his jeans off, watching Louis do the same thing out of the corner of his eye. Once he’s done, Louis gets on the bed, leaning back on his elbows. Nick drops his trousers to the floor, socks following the same way and then looks back up at Louis.

He has to stop and stare then, taking in the sight of Louis in nothing but his pants, stretched out on Nick’s bed. It’s almost difficult to decide what he wants to do first, where to put his hands, with so much gorgeous skin offered to him.

Louis, catching him looking, stretches languidly and reaches down to cup his own erection. “Whenever you’re ready.” He says breathily, arching his back a little and pushing into his own palm.

It brings Nick out of his reverie and he moves quickly, pushing Louis’ hand away from his dick and nailing it to the bed as he moves to cover Louis’ body with his own. He swallows Louis’ moan in a kiss, shuddering as Louis spreads his legs a bit, heels pressing into the backside of Nick’s thighs.

It’s good, so good. The hot, hard press of Louis’ dick against his hip and his stuttering breaths against Nick’s mouth as they kiss messily. Nick twists his hips, moaning as their dicks rub together through the thin layers of cotton.

“Fuck,” Louis gasps, “let me-“

Caught off guard Nick quickly finds himself pushed over onto his back. He slides his hands up Louis’ things, and over the generous curve of his bum, head thrown back against the pillows as Louis kisses his way up Nick’s throat. 

He contemplates pushing back, getting them into their previous position, but the thought dies with the first slow and dirty swivel of Louis hips; maddening, delicious friction drowning out everything else.

“So good.” Louis groans against Nick’s lips, an echo of Nick’s own thoughts. “Knew it would be good, fuck.”

Nick can only nod, hands roaming Louis’ back, his chest, gripping at his hips. He can feel his orgasm building, coiling tightly and releasing small sparks of pleasure up his spine. A part of him thinks should probably pause for long enough to get naked. Another part knows it’s too good, can’t imagine stopping even for a second; needs to feel Louis shake apart against him.

It doesn’t take that long. Louis comes first, mouth dropping open on a drawn out moan as he shudders on top of Nick. He looks amazing, his head thrown back and chest damp with sweat. He is still making choppy, uneven circles with his hips as he collapses against Nick’s chest. It’s enough to push Nick over the edge, sparks racing through his bloodstream. His heartbeat is pounding in his ears, echoed by Louis’ beating a tattoo against his chest.

Breathing heavily he brushes a trembling hand through the damp hair at the back of Louis’ head, and has to smile when he can feel Louis kiss his collarbone, his shoulder, before rolling off Nick to lay next to him on the bed.

“That was worth waiting for.” Louis says, and when Nick turns his head he finds Louis grinning dopily at him.

“It was.” He agrees, rolling his eyes when Louis holds up a hand, palm towards Nick, reluctantly partaking in a high five.

Louis is quick to intertwine their fingers, pulling Nick’s hand close to bite his wrist playfully before kissing the same spot, resting both their hands on top of his own chest. “I can’t believe I just came in my pants, I feel like an overeager, bloody teenager.” He says, finally, and Nick can’t help but laugh.

The next time Louis tugs on his hand, Nick comes easily, turning to his side and coming face to face with Louis. “Hi.”

“Hey.” Louis echoes, reaching out to brush the pad of his thumb over Nick’s bottom lip before kissing him.

It’s nice. They’re both a little sweaty and a lot sticky but it’s still intoxicating, Nick thinks there might never be a time when kissing Louis will be anything but. They kiss for a while, hands exploring with less urgency now. Louis pulls back eventually, but remains close.

“I don’t want to stop kissing you,” he says, pulling a face, “but I’m starting to feel a bit gross.”

Nick can only agree, his pants quickly reaching a level of uncomfortable that’s impossible to ignore. He reluctantly gets to his feet, searching through his drawers for two pairs of clean pants. Successful, he tosses one pair in Louis’ direction right as the sound of claws against the door echo through the room. A little guilty, he opens the door to let Pig in, watching her take quick inventory of the room.

When he turns back around, Louis is pulling up the new pair of pants over his hips, and Nick curses the lost opportunity to ogle him a bit. He heads for the bathroom as Louis picks his jeans off the floor, making quick work of getting changed and splashing his face with water. Louis is in the doorway when he looks back up, already in his jeans and t-shirt.

“I should go,” Louis says. “You have work tomorrow, right? And I need to be at Colney before ten.”

“I do.” Nick agrees reluctantly, putting his towel back on its hanger.

“Kinda wish I could stay. Do that again a couple of times.” Louis says then, and the simple way he says it makes Nick’s chest swell and heat to prickle at the pit of his stomach.

“Me too.” He replies, feeling Louis’ eyes on him as he walks past him and back into the bedroom. “I need to take Pig out,” he continues, reaching for his discarded jeans and pulling them on. “We can walk you to your car.”

They finish getting dressed in comfortable silence, Pig running ahead of them towards the door once she understands where things are headed.

It’s cold out, the night sky unusually clear. Louis is parked up the road, not too far from Nick’s door and they reach his car too soon for Nick’s liking. They end up with Louis pushed up against the car, Nick crowding into his personal space as they kiss.

 

 

 

 

“Close, I’m-.” Nick gasps, head thrown back against the pillows, working desperately to pull enough oxygen into his lungs. He’s scrambling, unable to focus on anything but the maddening, wet heat of Louis’ mouth on him, taking him deep.

He can feel his orgasm building, growing with every twirl of Louis’ talented tongue. The hand he has got wrapped around Louis’ neck tighten involuntarily, and he has to struggle to ease his grip, digging his fingers into Louis’ shoulder instead, holding on. There are sparks dancing in his veins, goose-bumps breaking out where Louis’ hand travel up and down his side. “So close,” he chokes out, the words ending on a drawn out moan as Louis takes him deeper still.

Louis pulls off with a slick sound, and when Nick looks down he finds Louis looking back at him, wanking him slowly. It might be one of the hottest sights Nick has ever seen, and when Louis swallows him back down, hand still wrapped around the base of his dick, Nick tumbles over the edge with a choked out groan. Louis doesn’t pull back, not letting up until Nick’s too sensitive, pushing weakly at his shoulder, hips jerking.

Loose-limbed and floaty, Nick can only curl a heavy arm around Louis’ shoulders as he moulds himself to Nick’s side. The kiss that follows is deep, Nick chasing the trace of himself on Louis’ tongue and shivering as Louis rubs his half-hard dick against Nick’s hip. It’s so good, skin against skin, both of them a little sweaty and the room smelling heavily of sex.

It’s early afternoon, weak winter sunlight streaming through Nick’s windows. They are supposed to be having lunch together, Nick already had all the ingredients out on the kitchen counter, but they got side-tracked. Nick has no idea what time it is, but he’s pretty sure there won’t be time for food before Louis has to leave.

“That was…” He trails off, wrapping a clumsy hand around Louis’ hip and pulling him a little closer. “Shit, Lou.” The nickname comes without second thought, slipping comfortably past his lips.

“Yeah.” Louis replies, and shit, the rasp in his voice makes something deep down in Nick’s gut flare up again, like embers lighting up in a breeze. Louis is still stroking a hand slowly over Nick’s ribs, down to his hip, as if he’s unable to stop touching him. “What time is it?”

Nick doesn’t answer, hand sliding from Louis’ shoulder and up his neck as he leans down to kiss him again. Louis kisses him back with lazy swipes of tongue before pulling back to trail kisses down Nick’s throat.

Nick can still feel his hard-on against his hip, and reaches down to wrap a hand around him. Louis lets out a sound somewhere between a sharp inhale and a moan, hips jerking into the touch, fingers digging into Nick’s ribs. “I have to-“

He loses track as Nick twists his wrist, keeping a steady pressure as he works him over.

“Have to what?” He asks, carefully shuffling so that he’s lying on his side, Louis’ nose buried against his collar bones.

“Fuck, have to-“ Louis chokes out, moaning loudly as Nick picks up pace. “I have to go.”

“You sure about that?” Nick can’t help but tease, stroking his thumb over the head of Louis’ dick and feeling him shudder against him.

“Yes.” Louis manages, “You’re gonna make me late.”

“Oh, my bad. I thought I was gonna make you _come_ ,” Nick laughs, feeling like his grin might split his face in two. Louis is squirming against him, panting wetly against his throat, teeth scraping against the delicate skin. “I can stop-“ He loosens his grip and chuckles as Louis quickly moves to cover Nick’s hand with his.

“Don’t you dare,” he grits, whining low in his throat. “Fuck, your hands, don’t stop.”

He cranes his neck, panting into the kiss as Nick leans down to meet him halfway. Moments later Louis comes with a groan, tensing for a second and then shuddering through his orgasm, fingers digging into Nick’s shoulder.

 

 

 

 

“How come I have to find out from Alexa that you’re seeing Louis Tomlinson?”

Harry cuts right to the chase when Nick answers his phone, tone a little wry but enough laughter mixed in that Nick knows he’s not really mad. “You don’t even like football?” Harry continues, and well, that really has nothing to do with it does it?

Nick bristles a bit at that, doesn’t like what Harry is implying. It’s not the first time one of the few select friends who know have sounded mildly surprised that things are going well between him  
and Louis.

He might have understood if they had questioned his ability to commit, God knows he’s been a bit of a serial dater, if a night or two in someone’s bed or a week of obsessive flirting can count as dating. But he doesn’t like it when his friends are puzzled by their compatibility, maybe because a part of him is equally surprised. He is still trying to figure out what it is that makes them click himself. Louis makes things fun. He’s witty and smart and is passionate about everything from tea to zombie television shows, and he rarely sits still for longer periods of time. 

“Well he doesn’t know a whole lot about doing radio so I guess we will have to make it work in spite of having separate careers and interests.” Nick scoffs, frustration bleeding into his words. “And it’s not like I’ve been keeping it from you, pop star. It’s not a secret we’re just…hanging out.”

“Right, sorry, that’s. Sorry.“ Harry trails off, but then Nick can almost hear the grin stretching his features as he continues. “Hanging out, huh? Hanging out or, hanging out?”

Nick doesn’t blush. If no one is around to see it, it doesn’t count. He spins in his desk chair, happy that the desks around him are empty. He’s foregone lunch today to finish a bit earlier, hungry but hanging in there with the prospect of an early day. “Both?” He gets out eventually, face buried in his hand.

“Grimmy, you minx.”

“Hanging up now, love you, bye!”

 

 

 

 

Nick wakes up too early, cursing his biological clock. It’s Saturday, he has tentative plans with Louis, who has a rare Saturday off, and has promised Ian drinks later. He tucks his duvet closer to his chin, listening to Pig snoring as he scrolls through twitter. Soon restless, he shoots off a text to Louis because he feels sorry for himself and needs to share.

_Why am I awakeee?_

He’s not expecting a reply at 7.42 in the morning, but is pleasantly surprised when his phone beeps within seconds.

_We’re going on an adventure Grimshaw._

We are?

Yes. I’ll pick you up in thirty. dress warm and don’t eat breakfast.

Nick is confused and more than a little intrigued, still staring at his phone when another text shows up.

_Bring Pig_

“We’re going on an adventure, Pig dog.” He says, untangling a hand to poke a bit at her where she lays, smiling at her huffy reaction.

He feeds her breakfast before heading for the shower and thirty minutes later they’re outside when an Uber pulls over, Louis in the backseat.

The adventure Louis has planned for them is Broadway Market. It might turn out to be an awful idea but it’s early enough for it to be fairly empty, and they might make it through without Louis getting mobbed. 

There’s a slight chill to the air, rich with scents coming from the different food stalls and Pig is going a little crazy from at all the things she feels a need to investigate. Once they’ve gotten themselves some coffee in sturdy take away cups they begin exploring. They wander slowly, shoulder to shoulder, stopping often to look at the different types of produce and food being prepared in the stalls. There are a lot of free samples, tiny nibbles being handed out left and right, and it makes sense, suddenly, forgoing breakfast.

Louis is a little more ‘on’, in settings like this compared to when it’s just the two of them, Nick notices, and he’s fascinating to watch. He really is ridiculously charming, making small talk with a tiny, old lady selling fruit preserves and bantering light-heartedly with a man who turns out to be a fan of Louis’ and asks Nick to take their picture.

“I want to marry this cheese.” Nick says around a bite of cheddar they’d been offered to try by a vendor, the cheese rich and just the right kind of sharp.He’s wholly unprepared for Louis leaning in and stealing the last piece of cheese off the toothpick in his hand, 

“If you liked it then you should have put a ring on it.” Louis sings jokingly, grinning at the slighted look on Nick’s face. “You were right, that was good,” he continues, sneaking an arm around Nick’s waist, underneath his coat. He’s got a nice voice, Nick notices, adding singing to what feels like a never-ending list of things that Louis does well. 

‘Adventures’ already being on there, and ‘stealing other people’s future cheese spouses’.

Once the food stalls begin to dwindle, vintage booths taking their place, they both have several thin plastic bags in their hands, heavy with all kinds of produce. Pig is trotting along, her exploring less enthusiastic now.

They finish their impromptu breakfast parade with freshly fried churros, dusted with sugar and dripping in homemade chocolate sauce. It’s decadent and too much and perfect. Better still when Nick manages to corner Louis against the wall of a still-closed shop, out of sight from the shoppers and vendors, kissing him until he can’t taste the chocolate anymore.

 

 

 

 

“I almost forgot, Rita asked if I’d like to come to dinner on Thursday. She demanded I ask you to come too.” Nick says, walking out of the kitchen with the two bottles of beer he found in the fridge, unceremoniously shoving Pig off the sofa and ignoring the insulted look she sends his way. He leaves the bottles on the table, making himself comfortable sitting sideways on the sofa, tucking his toes underneath Louis’ thighs. His feet are cold and Louis makes for an excellent human hot water bottle.

“I kind of have this thing on Thursday.” Louis says. He’s doing something on his phone but it looks a little too focused, as if he’s trying a little too hard. He had been making silly faces at Pig and whining about how full he was from dinner when Nick got up a minute ago, calling after him and demanding Nick do something about it.

“What kind of thing?” Nick prods, aiming for light-hearted but not quite sure he pulls it off.  
Thursday is almost a week away still, in the time they’ve known each other he’s come to view Louis as rather spontaneous; the strict routine his career demands not spreading to his personal life.

“The club’s Christmas dinner.” Louis tells him, looking up briefly from whatever it is he’s doing on his phone, face illuminated by the screen. 

Oh. Nick’s stomach drops, dinner suddenly an uncomfortable weight at the bottom of his stomach. He’s feeling a little disappointed this is the first time he hears about it if he’s honest, and not sure he has a right to be. “Right, okay, I’ll tell her.

“You could come with me.” Louis blurts out, shifting uncomfortably in his seat and the gesture makes Nick feel a little less overlooked. Louis drops his phone on the table, squeezing Nick’s feet into the sofa as he reaches for his beer. “I’ve been meaning to ask you, actually.”

Nick pretends to consider the idea for a moment, but already knows what his answer will be. Rita will definitely understand, he could probably find a time for them to do lunch before that anyway. “Okay, sure.”

“You don’t have to,” Louis replies, picking at the label on the bottle in his hands. He’s speaking quickly, and Nick wishes he’d just look at him. “I mean, if you have plans with Rita or what not. It’s fine.”

“Okay?” Nick is definitely confused now, and there’s a feeling of uncertainty creeping up on him that he doesn’t like one bit. Louis is back to watching the news, still picking absentmindedly at the bottle’s label. He’s frowning a little, seemingly lost in thought and not really paying any attention to what’s on telly and Nick has to ask. “Do you not want me to come with you?”

Louis startles a little at the question, giving up all pretence of watching the news. “No. No, that’s not it at all.”

Nick merely quirks an eyebrow at that, and Louis frowns. His fist is clenching where it’s resting on his thigh, shoulders tense. Nick, feeling like this is one of those moments where silence might actually be golden, has a mouthful of beer while he waits for Louis to find the words.

“It’s-“ Louis turns to face him on the sofa, one foot tucked under himself, fingers dancing briefly over Nick’s ankle before he continues. “I do want you to come with me. It’s usually good fun, everyone letting loose a little before the Christmas schedule begins but-” He trails off, letting out a frustrated breath and rubbing a hand roughly over his face. Nick wants to reach out and touch, settles for knocking his foot against Louis’ bended knee.

When Louis speaks next it’s in a quiet voice, unusually so, “I haven’t really dated anyone since I came out. So up until now me being gay has been this kind of… abstract thing, I guess. Not for me, obviously, but for the lads on the team.” He cringes at the last few words, and when he looks up briefly to meet Nick’s eyes, Nick manages a smile he hopes comes off as encouraging, silently urging him to go on. 

“And they’ve been cool about it, most of them at least,” Louis shrugs, the gesture not completely casual and Nick wants to punch anyone who’s made Louis feel anything but completely accepted. He’s not a fighter, not really, but he’d make an exception for any homophobic, dickhead footballers sharing team colours with Louis.

“But I don’t know how they will react to me actually bringing a date, you know? And it might be really awkward, and I don’t want anyone making you feel bad even if it’s by accident but fuck, they all bring their wives and girlfriends and I really want that, too. Not the girlfriend part, but yeah. I should be allowed that.”

It’s only when his lungs start to protest that Nick realizes he has barely been breathing, listening to Louis talk. “You should.” He agrees, eventually, not sure what to say to make the insecure look on Louis’ face disappear.

“I don’t want you thinking they’re bad people,” Louis continues, and he’s too good, Nick thinks. He would definitely be entitled to hold a grudge. ”Because they’re not. Most of them have been good, really good. Supportive. Liam offered to punch anyone who as much as looked at me wrong but he’s a giant teddy bear, really, so I’m not sure how that would have turned out.”

“Good lad.”

That makes Louis smile, a small twitch of his lips before he continues. “Still, this thing with what I do, and dating someone like me, it comes with… I come with a lot of baggage, yeah? It would make sense if you weren’t up for it.” He pulls a face at his own ineloquence. “I guess what I’m trying to say is that I’d understand it if you weren’t. Aren’t.”

Nick knows he should probably say something, but he’s completely flummoxed. He has rarely wished for tact the way he does right now. It feels as if he’s been offered something fragile to keep safe and he hadn’t realized until now how many layers this version of Louis normally hides behind. In the end he moves closer to Louis on the sofa, nudging his hip until he shifts in his seat to make room for Nick in his personal space. He ends up with one of Louis’ legs slung over his lap, resting his arm on the back of the sofa. Louis squirms, picking at a hangnail until Nick catches his hands in his own, stilling his movements. He strokes a thumb over the “2” tattooed on Louis’ ring finger, wondering about the significance of the 28’s and reminding himself to ask about it some other time.

”Well, I am.” He admits, trying to put every bit of sincerity he can find into the words. “Up for it.” It’s cheesy and sounds a little like something out of a romantic comedy but he truly means it. He can barely remember a time where he’s been more serious. It feels a bit like a grand gesture and it’s probably too soon but he doesn’t care. He has always gone with gut feeling, and he has a really good feeling about Louis Tomlinson.

Louis eyes him carefully from under his lashes, tangling their fingers together. “You sure?”

Nick tugs at his hand, “Yes.” He untangles their fingers, using a hand around Louis’ neck to pull him closer, kissing him. “I am.”

 

 

 

 

Arsenal’s Christmas dinner is a swanky affair, held in a beautifully decorated ballroom at the Mandarin Oriental. Nick hadn’t expected anything less. They are a bit late to arrive, and most people seem to be in the room already when they walk in. Louis looks like a million pounds in his suit, hair pushed back from his forehead in a quiff. He hides it well, but Nick can see traces of his nerves in the way he keeps reaching out to fix his non-existent fringe, and opts to reach out for his hand the second time it happens in less than a minute. Louis startles a bit at the gesture, and for a second Nick thinks he might pull away, untangle their fingers, but then Louis’ lips twitch into a tiny smile and he squeezes Nick’s hand.

“This is nice.”

“It is.” Louis replies, and something in Nick’s chest loosens a bit as he remains close up in Nick’s personal space as they speak. They get drinks from the open bar at one end of the vast room, bumping into one of Louis’ teammates and his wife as they wait for the bartender to serve them. 

Louis’ teammate introduces himself as Theo, shaking Nick’s hand and gently ribbing Louis about his hair without a trace of awkwardness and Nick hadn’t realized how much he needed that until it happened. The four of them chat for a while as they wait for their drinks, and Louis is a lot more relaxed when they walk back towards the open space of the ballroom. 

The guest list is a mix of players, staff and shareholders, and it’s not too long before they come face to face with the boss himself. Arsène Wenger, the Arsenal manager, strikes an intimidating figure. Nick finds himself straightening his posture on pure instinct as he’s introduced to the Frenchman, wanting to make a good impression on a man Louis has only ever spoken good of. Louis’ admiration and respect for his manager is evident and Nick feels a little like he’s meeting the parents.

“Not gonna lie, he terrifies me a bit.” Nick admits once Mr Wenger has left them, hand curled around Louis’ elbow as they walk across the room towards their table, everyone heading for their seats now that dinner is apparently about to be served. “But he seems nice, yeah?”

“He’s a good man.” Louis agrees. “Do you know what he said when I told him I wanted to come out?”

Nick shakes his head at the question, pulling out Louis’ chair for him as they reach the table. There’s a few people already seated, and Nick’s relieved to find that Liam and his girlfriend are two of them. Liam smiles at Nick, calling out a ‘Hey, Nick!’ that has everyone at the table turning in Nick’s direction. So much for blending in.

“’Okay.’” Louis continues, once they’re both seated, leaning closer to Nick to keep their conversation private.

“Okay?” Nick repeats, already a bigger fan of Arsène Wenger than he was a minute ago.

“Yeah. Then he thanked me for telling him, and to let him know if anyone affiliated with the team gave me a hard time about it.” Louis says, putting his drink down on the table as he speaks. “And he never treated me differently, and it was…nice, you know? Because for a while everyone else seemed to want to make everything about my bloody sex life, and he just expected me to do my job. It was a relief, being on the pitch and not thinking about the gossip and the articles.”

Nick has to fight to keep from kissing him right then and there. He settles for resting a hand on Louis’ thigh, squeezing gently, and listening intently as Louis introduces him to the rest of their company.

Dinner is lavish and absolutely delicious. There are speeches, some more serious than others, and Nick’s wine glass keeps getting refilled when he’s not looking. He does his best not to drink too much, sadly aware that tomorrow is a work day and he will probably be tired enough without being grossly hung over on top of it. 

Once dinner is over and dessert has been cleared off the tables most of the older board members take their leave. Both the volume and the energy in the room picks up after that. Music is being blasted at top volume, and there’s champagne bottles being passed around. Nick’s more than a little buzzed, but still accepts a champagne flute that is offered him. A few of the players on Louis’ team puts on a rambunctious dance routine to Hips Don’t Lie that has the whole room in stitches, and once they’ve finished someone brings out the tequila.

Louis is having a grand time; that much is obvious from the way he’s singing along to the music, never sitting still for long, constantly dancing and chatting with his teammates. Watching him with the others on his team is interesting, and Nick finds himself taking a step back to do so more than once. It’s easy to tell that many of them are not only interacting as co-workers, but as friends, and it makes up for a few of the more awkward glances he’s noticed being thrown in his and Louis’ direction during the evening.

Nick is talking to Liam, whom he has learned is one of the team’s two keepers as well as one of Louis’ best friends, when Louis returns from the loos. He’s looking a little pink cheeked and teeters into Nick’s side, wrapping an arm around Nick’s waist underneath his blazer.

“Are you drunk?” Nick grins, delighted, and the way Liam laughs at Louis’ affronted look is answer enough. Liam is obviously not new to the situation, skilfully avoiding Louis’ attempt to pinch him in retribution.

“Maybe.” Louis admits eventually. He’s leaning in a little too close, his breath hot against Nick’s neck. The brush of lips against his jaw is enough to have sparks dancing down Nick’s spine, but then Louis has to take another small sidestep to keep his balance and Nick can’t keep from laughing.

“You lightweight!” he snorts, sending Liam into another fit of laughter.

“Shut up, Payno,” Louis drawls, and he’s still so close Nick can feel his lips against his chin as he talks. “Seems like everyone’s getting ready to leave.” He speaks quietly, the words obviously meant for Nick alone. “You should come back to mine.”

“I have work tomorrow morning.” Nick reminds him, leaning into the touch. “I’ll have to get up at five. Don’t you wanna go out with the others?” He and Louis are pressed cheek to cheek, Louis’ breath hot against Nick’s skin and he doesn’t miss the fond look on Liam’s face as he watches their exchange

“Nah,” Louis replies, using the hand around Nick’s waist, settled on his hip, to pull him closer still. “I want to take you home.”

Once actual, real life limo buses arrive to drive everyone back into central London, or to the chosen nightclub, Nick finds himself and Louis ushered into Liam’s car, his girlfriend Sophia behind the wheel. Nick ends up riding shotgun, the two footballers pouring themselves into the backseat. It turns out to be a good decision, because out of the three of them Liam and Louis are definitely the more inebriated; spending the entire ride over to Louis’ house watching videos on Facebook and singing along too loudly to the songs playing on the radio.

Nick spends the ride talking to Sophia, both of them rolling their eyes a bit at their dates’ antics in the backseat. Once she drops them off at the end of Louis’ street, Liam is half asleep in his seat, and Louis is left to coo over the cat video he’s watching by himself.

Nick keeps a firm hold around Louis’ waist as they walk down the road, trying to make sure he doesn’t trip and brain himself on the asphalt. It’s surprisingly cold out, and he shivers as he watches Louis literally bounce ahead of Nick up his driveway. He catches up to him just as he unlocks the door, waiting with baited breath as Louis manages to punch in the security code to turn off the alarm. Louis slumps back against the wall, looking so pleased with his own accomplishment Nick can barely keep from laughing out loud. He stops to kick off his boots, and looks up just in time to see Louis nearly take a tumble as he tries to step out of his brogues. Snickering, he throws an arm around Louis’ waist to steady him. Louis kind of moulds himself to Nick’s side, muttering under his breath as he finally succeeds to get his shoes off.

“They’re new.” He says, looking up at Nick and he looks so displeased with his uncooperative footwear that Nick has to laugh, kissing the pout off his face.

“Or you’re sloshed, love.” He points out, squeezing Louis hip.

Louis squints at him, for a moment looking like he might argue but then nods solemnly. “I am,” he agrees, pushing away from the wall and out of Nick’s hold. He turns around, arms spread wide. “Good days should come with good drinks. Lots of drinks.”

Nick laughs, following Louis as he heads for the kitchen. He watches him as he heads over to the fridge, retrieving a bottle of Gatorade and downing half of it in one go. Not too drunk to be smart about it, then. Good to know.

When Louis starts laughing quietly to himself Nick is confused. He accepts the half-empty bottle from Louis and has a drink. “What’s funny?”

Louis is still giggling, leaning back against the counter and makes grabby hands for the bottle as Nick walks into his personal space. Nick hands it over, watching Louis’ Adam’s apple move as he swallows and wants to trace its contours with his tongue. Wants a lot of things, with Louis so pliant and radiant in front of him.

“I was just thinking,” Louis begins, leaving the bottle on the worktop behind him before he turns to lean against the fridge, “that if someone had told me last year when I was bloody swooning over you on the X Factor that this would happen, I wouldn’t have believed them.”

Nick blinks, not sure he heard that last part right because, what? “You watched me on the X-Factor?”

“I did.” Louis makes a soft, groaning sound of embarrassment, hiding his face in his hands. He peers at Nick through his fingers, the blush staining his cheeks clearly visible from where Nick is standing. “You were great. I wanted to kiss you.”

Nick is sure he has somehow ended up in an alternate universe. The whole notion of Louis following the show he was on, for him, is mind-boggling and he struggles to make sense of it.

“Famous midfielder Louis ‘Tommo’ Tomlinson wanted to kiss little ol’ me?” He simpers, sidling up to Louis and chuckling when Louis’ shoves him in the chest exasperatedly. He ignores it, resting a hand against the fridge, next to Louis’ head. “Today really is a good day. I feel like I should tweet something.”

Louis scoffs, but he’s smiling and Nick’s the one who is left reeling when he suddenly turns serious. “You know what would make this day even better?” Louis asks him, reaching out to play with Nick’s lapel, tugging a little at the silky fabric. He’s still looking a little flushed, eyes dark, and Nick shivers as he leans in close to speak directly into Nick’s ear, “If you took me to bed and fucked my brains out.”

It’s not happening, not tonight. They might have spent a lot of time naked together recently, but they haven’t gotten to that part yet and tonight is not the night either. Not with Louis just on the wrong side of sober enough for Nick to be comfortable with the situation. However, there is no stopping the small, breathy sound punching its way up his throat, or the second one he lets out as Louis attacks his mouth.The kiss is dirty, all tongue and teeth. Louis is brimming with barely contained energy, pushing and pushing for more. It feels like trying to keep up with a hurricane. Head swimming, Nick suddenly isn’t sure who’s the more inebriated out of the two of them, slowly losing his mind with each brush of Louis’ lips against his.

They leave the kitchen, stumbling down the hallway towards the stairs tangled together. Louis takes the lead up the stairs, pulling Nick along by his belt, mouthing hotly against his neck. Nick can only follow, trying to keep them both upright. It’s difficult. He doesn’t want them to fall and break their necks but he also doesn’t want to stop kissing Louis.

Louis, who is busy trying to unbutton Nick’s shirt and tugging eagerly at the buttons. In the end he succeeds, yanking the shirt loose from where it’s tucked into Nick’s trousers and Nick shivers as Louis’ hands slide up his torso, leaving goosebumps in their wake. They come to a stop on the landing, and Louis is quick to push Nick up against the wall.

Nick’s lower back connects painfully with the handrail, but he barely notices. Louis aligns their bodies, chest and thighs, attaching mouth to Nick’s neck. He is scraping his teeth down the line of his throat, sucking hard as Nick tilts his head to the side to give him better access. Already half-hard and wanting more, Nick slips his hands into Louis’ back pockets and pulls him closer still, moving his leg in-between Louis’ thighs.

“Come on, come on,” Louis chants, pulling back to shrug out of his blazer and leaving it where it falls. Head swimming, Nick still finds himself reaching down to pick it up, fingers feeling clumsy from alcohol and adrenaline. Louis is pulling on his arm, hand wrapped tightly around Nick’s wrist, causing his tangle of bracelets to dig into his skin. They stumble up the rest of the stairs, Nick kissing whatever part of Louis’ that he can reach, his neck, his throat.

They make it inside the bedroom, and Nick barely has time to get a look of the room before he’s pushed down on the bed, falling down onto his back. He winces slightly when Louis flicks on the bedside lamp, the light glaringly bright. Squinting, he looks around the room, noticing the soft colour scheme and the simple style of the bed frame. The bed is huge, comfortable, and takes up a good amount of space in the room. It’s not important though, not right now when Louis is taking off his shirt, leaving him in nothing but black trousers as he drops his button down to the floor. Nick sits back up, following Louis’ lead with trembling fingers, getting out of his own trousers and dropping his phone to the bedside table. Louis gets on the bed once he’s down to his boxer briefs, walking towards Nick on his knees. He looks positively sinful, hair in disarray and muscles flexing as he moves.

They end up with Louis sprawled half on top of Nick, one leg thrown over Nick’s thigh. “I’ve been thinking about this all night.” Louis says, between kisses, hand stroking down Nick’s bicep to curl around his elbow.

“Thinking about what?” He replies, feeling Louis shudder on top of him; sucking in a breath against Nick’s collarbone when he slips a hand into his pants, fingers brushing over his crack.

“That, fuck, come on.” Louis gasps, hips swivelling in small, jerky circles, pushing his dick against Nick’s thigh. “Nick.”

It’s addictive, Nick thinks, hearing his own name spilling from Louis’ lips like this, cloudy with need. Louis’ hands are moving hungrily over Nick’s skin, never still for more than a second. Nick gets it; wants everything he can have of Louis and then some, can’t quite decide where to touch first. He moves, shifting so that they’re face to face, both of them moaning into the kiss as their dicks rub together before Louis pulls away to lie on his back and pulls Nick along with him. Nick comes willingly, losing himself in kissing Louis and the white hot heat spreading through his limbs. Eager for more, he reluctantly breaks the kiss and sits back on his haunches.

“Let’s get these off, yeah?” He suggests, dipping his fingers underneath the elastic of Louis’ pants, purposely avoiding making contact with Louis’ dick where it pushes against the fabric.

“Yes, fuck.” Louis says, trying to free himself of the restricting fabric. He’s a little uncoordinated in his attempts, and in the end Nick has mercy on him before moving on to his own. It’s a little difficult, getting his own pants off, but he manages with a minimal of flailing, tossing them over the edge of the bed. Looking back at Louis he feels like he might keel over from the sight of him naked on the bed.

“Fuck, babe.” He breathes out, stroking a hand down Louis’ side. His skin is hot under Nick’s palm, abs quivering as Nick’s fingers brush across his lower stomach. He’s hard, dick leaking at the tip. He looks absolutely mouth-watering. Done teasing, he wraps his hand around Louis’ dick, stroking lightly and relishing the sound he pulls out of Louis as he does.

“Nick.” His name sounds like a prayer spilling from Louis’ lips and he keeps his hand moving, adding a twist to his wrist and watches Louis’ eyes nearly roll back into his head.

“You look so good like this.” He murmurs, his other hand stroking up Louis’ side, brushing over a nipple. “All spread out for me. Want to make you feel good.”

“You always do.” Louis gasps out, moaning when Nick reaches for his nipple again, pinching it between his thumb and index finger. “Make me feel so good.”

He is hot and hard in Nick’s hand, hips shifting with every twist of Nick’s wrist. Nick watches him in rapt attention, caught between the mind-blowing thrill of what he’s doing and trying to decide on what to do next. He is caught off guard when Louis suddenly pushes himself up on his elbows to claim his mouth in a kiss. He is pulled forward, only just manages to catch himself before collapsing on top of Louis. Louis isn’t bothered though, rolling his hips up, Nick’s hand trapped between them.

Louis’ hands are everywhere, in his hair, scratching down his back, palming at his bum. Nick kisses his way down the soft column of Louis’ throat, digging his teeth in gently to feel Louis tremble, tilting his head to the side to allow Nick better access.

“Fuck me.” Louis gasps out, bucking up against him in a way that has Nick going a little cross-eyed with how good it feels.

“Oh, I will.” Nick says against his mouth, nipping at Louis’ kiss-swollen lower lip. Louis looks positively debauched; eyes completely blown and his breathing choppy. It’s a little ridiculous, how badly he wants it, wants Louis. Something is holding him back though. “When you’re sober. Want you all here.”

“I’m here. Right here.” Louis groans, forehead creased in frustration. He reaches for Nick, and Nick drops his head to rest his forehead against Louis’ shoulder as Louis curls a fist around him, wanking him torturously slow. “I’m good, promise, I’ll do a walk and turn and prove it to you.”

“Not now,” Nick groans out, suddenly finding it much harder to remember why he came to that decision. “I’ll still make it good, promise.”

“You better.” Louis pants, a clear challenge in his tone but he’s not really upset, eyes sparkling with mirth. His hand is still moving maddeningly slow over Nick’s dick, sparks dancing up and down Nick’s spine with every twist of Louis’ wrist.

Not wanting things to end just yet, Nick backs away, ignoring Louis’ mumbled protest. “Lube?” He asks, sitting back on his haunches to allow Louis room to move, taking a moment to try and catch his breath.

Louis leans across the bed, nearly kneeing Nick in the stomach as he does, and rifles through his bedside drawer. It doesn’t take him long, and he tosses the bottle at Nick, hitting him in the chest. He lies back, wrapping a hand around himself and levelling Nick with a challenging glare. Nick doesn’t take the bait, uncapping the bottle and coating his fingers generously with lube. He rubs his fingertips together, warming the slick up. He watches Louis silently, waiting until Louis’ hand stops moving on his dick, a small frown on his features.

“What are you waiting for, Grimshaw. A written invitation?”

“Like looking at you,” Nick admits. He drags a finger slowly up the underside of Louis’ dick, and Louis hisses out a breath at the sensation, spreading his legs further. “So gorgeous, bloody hell, Lou.”

He takes his time, despite fearing he might come at any second if Louis as much as looks at him for too long, working Louis over until he’s a trembling, panting mess. When Nick finally allows his hand to wander, past his balls, circling his rim he moans, deep and long. He pauses briefly, ignoring the frustrated sound Louis makes and revelling in the way it’s cut short as he slips the tip of his finger inside of him. The reaction he gets is instant.

“Fuck.” Louis gasps out, legs spreading further as he arches into Nick’s touch.

Nick quickly decides that fingering Louis might be his new favourite thing. He gets more lube, carefully working up to two fingers, his eyes never leaving Louis’ face. Louis is clutching desperately at Nick’s arm; his fingers digging into the skin hard enough to leave crescent-shaped marks. Nick’s wrist is protesting a little at the angle but he doesn’t want to stop, can’t stop now, enjoying the opportunity to have his other hand travel up and down Louis’ gorgeous thighs.

But in the end he has to change position. Leaning forward he puts his weight on one arm, hovering above Louis, relieved when the change of position allows him to kiss Louis and to get some blood back in his legs. He curls his fingers, revelling in the sound Louis makes as he finds the spot he’d been looking for.

“Ah, again,”” Louis manages to get out, pushing back against Nick’s fingers, almost laughing and so, so gorgeous. “More, come on.”

Fingers still deep inside of him, Nick does as he’s told, delighting in the way Louis throws his head back and the sound that is ripped from his throat. He sits back up, leaning forward to brush his lips across Louis’ trembling abs, down the length of his dick. Liking the way it makes Louis twitch and moan he does it again, licking a stripe up the shaft, swirling his tongue around the head, tasting him.

“You close?” He asks, feeling like he knows the answer already but wanting the conformation, kissing the soft skin of Louis’ groin, his inner thigh. He keeps moving his fingers, reaching out to wrap his other hand around Louis dick, squeezing. Louis can only nod, swallowing compulsively.

Nick curls his fingers, twists his wrist and that’s all it takes. Louis comes with a loud moan, arching violently. It’s the most obscenely beautiful thing Nick has ever seen. He keeps moving his hand on Louis dick, and only removes his fingers when Louis starts squirming, too sensitive; leaning down to kiss him as he struggles to regain his breath. 

“Your fucking hands,” Louis breathes out, “fucking hell, I can’t feel my legs.”

Wrapping a hand around himself Nick knows it won’t take much, can barely remember the last time he was this turned on and now that he’s no longer focused solely on Louis he realizes how close he is himself. He works himself over hard and fast, panting against Louis’ lips. Louis is touching him sluggishly, sliding a hand down his back to squeeze his bum, the other closing over Nick’s own hand wrapped around his dick.

“Come on,” Louis murmurs against his lips, before kissing him briefly, and that’s all it takes. Louis’ hand over his and his lips against Nick’s and Nick comes, covering his own hand and Louis’ stomach with come.

Trembling, Nick manages to twist his upper body enough not to collapse on top of Louis, crashing next to him on the bed. There’s a low level buzzing in his limbs, and they’re both damp with sweat, sticking together where they’re touching. Louis turns towards him, letting out a quiet hum as Nick brushes a hand through his hair, leaving it to rest against his scalp. Nick can almost feel himself nodding off, Louis breathing slowly and deep next to him, hand moving sluggishly up and down Nick’s arm.

He doesn’t fall asleep though, the come drying on his skin soon becoming too itchy to ignore. Eventually he stumbles out of bed, legs shaking like he’s run a marathon,, and finds his way inside the bathroom. Squinting against the harsh light he has to search a while before finding a washcloth, washing his hands before returning to the bedroom, flannel in hand. Louis is barely awake enough to pay any notion to Nick’s cursory wipe-down; merely stretching lazily and watching Nick with eyes barely open.

Finished, Nick simply drops the flannel to the floor, collapsing next to Louis on the bed. He fumbles for his phone, setting an alarm with only one eye open before turning off the lights. 

They’re still sweaty and kind of gross and Nick is fairly sure that Louis is half asleep already when he shuffles over to plaster himself against to Nick’s side, a hand thrown over Nick’s stomach. But it doesn’t stop him from pulling Louis closer, falling asleep in seconds.

 

 

 

 

Waking up is a series of unpleasant discoveries, Marimba pulling him out of sleep after what feels like two minutes of rest. The uneasy feeling at the pit of his stomach is the first thing to make itself known, the steel band wrapped around his head comes as close second. Louis is grumbling something into his pillow next to him, pulling the duvet over his head and curling in on himself. 

Nick allows himself a few seconds of glaring at the shape of him hiding under the duvet, horribly envious of the fact that Louis won’t have to survive the day hungover and on less than four hours of sleep.

Getting out of bed feels like an impossible task, and he spends a good thirty seconds sitting on the side of the bed hating everything and everyone except maybe Pig and diet Coke. He drags himself into Louis’ huge shower, wishing he wasn’t so tired so he’d be able to enjoy it more. It’s spacious and the water pressure is amazing but he still showers quickly, shivering despite the hot water.

Clothes turn out to be somewhat of a challenge. Since he’s not too keen on showing up to work in last night’s outfit he’s forced to improvise. Hoping that Louis doesn’t mind sharing he raids his walk-in, quickly and quietly. Now that his moment of jealousy from earlier has passed he’s trying his very best not to wake Louis, is kind of enjoying getting dressed to the sound of his slow, steady breathing. He finds himself a pair of boxers easily enough, and after some searching manages to find a t-shirt and a Puma hoodie that must be at least one size too big on Louis. It’s not something he’d usually go for unless he was about to go to the gym, but he wants comfort and none of Louis’ fancier jumpers will fit him anyway.

He brushes his teeth, barely looking at himself in the mirror. There is no way he wants evidence of what he looks like right now, positive he looks middle-aged or seriously ill. It makes doing his hair a little difficult though, so in the end he simply brushes his fingers through it a couple of times and hopes for the best.

Louis is still sleeping when he walks back into the bedroom. He’s barely visible except for a tuft of hair, duvet tucked tightly around himself. Nick would pay serious money to cancel all obligations and crawl back under the covers and join him. He sits down next to Louis on the side of the bed, brushing strands of hair off his forehead with light fingers.

“I’m sleeping.”

Louis hoarse voice startles him, hand stopping its movement. “You’re really not.” He points out, smiling, pulling the duvet down a bit to find Louis still has his eyes closed, brow furrowed.

“I would be if someone,” Louis croaks, “wasn’t remodelling my bathroom at arse o’clock in the morning.”

Nick scoffs, pulling at his hair in retaliation. “I need a key if you want me to lock the door when I leave.”

“Ugh, I think I’m still drunk.” Louis groans, burrowing further into his duvet. “Kitchen drawer. By the kettle.” He continues, making a soft noise at the back of his throat as Nick brushes his fingers through his fringe again, dragging his fingertips against his scalp.

“See you later?” Nick asks, but the only response he gets is Louis’ heavy breathing.

Fiona takes one look at him when he walks through the studio door thirty minutes later, and promptly loses it laughing. Nick is unamused.

The show drags on forever and he can’t stop yawning and at one point he nearly misses a cue because he’s staring unseeingly into the depths of his depressingly empty coffee cup. The sweatshirt he borrowed is nice, comfortable and very soft in that way they only are if they’ve never been washed before. If he finds himself wishing it would smell like Louis, well, he blames the hangover.He has just stumbled his way through a link when his phone lights up with an incoming text, another one following in quick succession.

_I’m dying  
pls bring back bacon_

The second they’re done with the show and the meeting afterwards he’s out the door. He did dreadfully today and probably owes his team a really nice lunch for saving his ass. But for now he drops by Sainsbury’s on the way back to Louis’ house, piling his basket full of things and topping it off with a bunch of Wispa bars.

The drive to Hampstead takes longer than usual, and he’s so tired when he finally unlocks Louis’ front door he might have laughed about it if he had the energy. He calls out, but when there’s no reply he leaves the bags in the kitchen and heads up the stairs in search of Louis. Walking into the bedroom is like being transferred seven or so hours back in time. Because Louis is still in bed, a shapeless form under the duvet, sound asleep.

Nick wants to throw a shoe at him.

He doesn’t. Simply settles for collapsing on top of Louis, rejoicing in the way he jolts awake, cursing hoarsely. It makes Nick feel infinitely better because Louis sounds like death and it’s only fair because Nick sure feels like it.

“Hiya, love.” Nick sing-songs, squirming as he tries to find a more comfortable position on top of Louis. He doesn’t let up until they’re basically spooning, Louis tucked against his front with the duvet separating them. Nick could fall asleep like this, nose buried in Louis’ hair, is about to but is jolted back to reality when Louis starts moving, turning around to face Nick.

“I think I’ve been poisoned.” Louis tells him, eyes a little red-rimmed and complexion pale.

“I will make sure to notify the Met.”

“I’m never drinking again.” Louis continues solemnly, frowning a little at Nick’s quiet laugh and flicking him in the shoulder. “Be nice.”

“Ow. I am nice. It’s not my fault you decided to drink all the ‘good drinks’ last night.”

Louis rolls his eyes but doesn’t object. “How was work?”

Nick can’t stop the grimace, burying his face in the pillow for a second. “I was bad, kept zoning out. The others were great.” He looks back up to find Louis looking at him, looking sleep-soft and happy despite the hangover. “How ‘bout you, did you sleep all day?”

“It’s half two, ‘s not all day.” Louis points out, reaching out to trace Nick’s brow with his index finger. It feels nice, Louis’ fingertips drawing light patterns against his forehead. “And not really, I woke up at ten and well,” He makes a gesture that suggests throwing up, grimacing as he continues, “showered after that. Kinda been sleeping on and off since then.”

“Sorry.” Nick says, almost regretting his previous teasing. “That bad, huh?”

Louis sighs. “My tolerance is shit during the season.”

“I noticed. You were a bit arsed, love.” Nick grins, regret forgotten, and this time he manages to swerve Louis’ attempt to pinch his shoulder.

“Was not.”

“Oh, you were.” Nick chuckles, “No worries, you’re a cute drunk.”

“’m not cute.” Louis objects. “I’m very rugged and handsome.”

“Sure. That too.” Nick agrees, leaning over for a close-mouthed peck.

“It was a good night.” Louis says as they pull back, fingers back to tracing Nick’s brow, down the slope of his nose. “I’m particularly fond of how it ended.”

“Is that so,” Nick drawls, a flash of heat sparking in his gut at the memory. Not sure he can let that other thing go, he gives in to the urge to mess with Louis a little bit. “For me, I think the highlight was when you admitted to fangirling over me during X Factor.”

Louis blushes; the faintest trace of pink colouring his cheekbones. It’s adorable, really, and Nick would maybe feel bad about taking advantage of his weakened state if he was a better person. In reality it’s effort enough not to pull out his phone and record the event. “You fancied me.” He sing-songs, poking Louis in the shoulder.

“Ugh, I hate you.” Louis groans, rubbing his face against his pillow in a way that makes him look like a grumpy kitten. It doesn’t make Nick’s heart swell. Nope. He waits patiently, and is rewarded when Louis looks back up at him with a put upon sigh.

“This is where you stroke my ego a bit.” Nick tells him, a flutter of nerves in his stomach at the prospect of Louis giving it to him straight.

“I can think of a few other ways to stroke you.” Louis quips, but then turns serious. “You were great, you know?”

It’s Nick’s turn to blush, briefly reconsidering his choice to bring it up at all. The whole experience on the show still feels very twofold. It had been a dream come true, in a way, and he truly enjoyed the musical aspect of the show, the coaching and connecting with his group. But the politics behind it all, Simon’s cold hearted approach and the varied reviews in the press is still enough to make something in his chest freeze up. He had a good time, but he’s very happy he won’t be returning for this year’s show. His thoughts must show on his face because Louis is quick to continue.

“No, if you’re forcing me to admit to my embarrassing crush, I’m gonna be honest and you’re gonna have to listen to it.” Louis says. “I mean it. I’ve watched it for years, might even have auditioned when I was younger if I hadn’t been so busy with the whole football thing. I know what I’m talking about.”

“’...the football thing.’”

“You know what I mean.” Louis scoffs, but he’s smiling. “Like I said, I really liked you as a judge. You made last season so good, Nick. You’re passionate about music and it shows. You threw yourself heart and soul into coaching your group and I... I guess I like that. Passion. People who dare to stand up for what they like, what they believe in.”

Nick blinks, momentarily rendered speechless as he sorts through the praise.

“Not to mention how bloody good you looked during the finale.” Louis adds. “I wanted to push you up against that judges’ table and have my wicked way with you.”

Nick laughs, unable to keep the smile off his face. It feels good, knowing that Louis enjoyed what he did, and a little scary realizing how much Louis’ opinion has already come to matter to him. “Thank you. I might even make you breakfast for that, if you think you can stomach it?”

“Yes!” Louis crows, pumping a fist weakly in the air. Then he turns serious again, but the smile lingers in his eyes. “I have an important question; how do you feel about eating it in bed?”

“I could possibly be convinced to bring it here.” Nick admits, also struggling to keep from grinning. “Kind of want to spend the rest of the day right here, if that’s okay.”

“Please.” Louis sighs, burrowing further into the duvet.

“I stopped by the shop. I can do us some eggs and bacon, might throw in a Wispa bar if you ask nicely.”

Louis’ eyes lit up, “I knew there was a reason I’ve kept you around.”

 

 

 

 


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

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> Here it is, chapter two. more footie!Louis, more infatuated boys, more "firsts" and an important conversation.
> 
> Thank you to everyone who has favourited, left kudos or commented on the first chapter <3
> 
> And a huge thank you and lots of love to [Sheena](http://www.conscious--ramblings.tumblr.com) for the beta/britpicking and [Alice](http://www.intenselouis.tumblr.com) for looking this over and giving some great suggestion. I couldn't do this without you <3
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>  

 

On Christmas Eve Nick finds himself stretched out on his parents’ sofa. It’s late afternoon and he only arrived an hour ago, having left London after the show finished. His mum is in the kitchen, probably cooking some kind of Christmas-related dish and cleaning something at the same time in a wild frenzy to get everything ready before the rest of the Grimshaw clan arrives.

He tried to help, but apparently he didn’t chop the carrots _just so_ and has been banished to the living room, scrolling listlessly through his social media as he waits for his siblings to show up. Perhaps they can ambush their mum together in a joint effort to have her sit down for longer than five minutes at a time.

He’s on his third refresh of Instagram in five minutes when he sees it. The official Arsenal account has posted a new photo and Nick can’t ignore the rush of adrenaline when he’s suddenly faced with a close-up of Louis, grinning so big his eyes are nothing but slits below his Arsenal hat. The breathless feeling is to blame for how it takes him a few seconds to read the caption and when he does, the fond smile he can feel has taken over his face is turned into a frown.

_Happy birthday @louist91_

Dread pooling in the pit of his stomach Nick brings up google, types Louis’ name into the search bar and seconds later he’s served the cold, hard truth. It’s Louis’ birthday today. Nick can’t remember if Louis has ever mentioned his birthday. They saw each other two days ago; met up for lunch and blowjobs after Nick finished work, and before Louis had to get on a train to Newcastle. Louis knows Nick was going home for the holidays and had mentioned that his own family was coming down to celebrate Christmas at his house. He’s sure they’ve never broached the subject of birthdays, but it doesn’t stop him feeling like a knob for not having known.

He types out a text, not sure if he’s supposed to pretend he doesn’t know or be grovelling. In the end he settles for an in-between of sorts.

_So, rumour has it it’s your birthday?_

It takes nearly an hour for Louis to reply, and by then Nick has been joined by both parents and his siblings with their families in the living room. There’s mulled wine and too many sweets and Nick loves Christmas, even if he’s going to have to spend twice as long in the gym to make up for it.

Or, you know, think about going to the gym at least twice as many times a day until New Year’s, whatever.

 _It is yeah_ Louis replies, adding a cake emoji at the end.

Right. Nick leaves his glass on the table and untangles himself from the gaggle of nieces and nephews on the sofa, walking out of the room and heading for his old bedroom. He shivers now that he’s not in front of the fireplace anymore, but it’s worth it when he walks through the door and is met by nothing but silence. Blessed privacy. Leaning back against his old desk he presses call, picking distractedly at his thumb nail as he waits. There’s a lot of noise in the background when Louis picks up, and Nick cringes at the idea of having interrupted something birthday related.

“Sorry, hold on, yeah?”

There’s the sound of a door closing and the noise disappears, then Louis’ speaks up again. “Hiya, Nicholas.”

“Hi,” Nick says, reaching out to touch his fingertips gently to the edge of a Take That poster still tacked to his wall. “Happy birthday.”

“Thanks.” Louis says, and Nick can almost hear the smile on this face through the phone.

He lies down on the bed, pillowing his head on one arm and stretching out. His feet hang off the edge of the bed and he wiggles his toes, taking in the familiar view of his old room. “You’re a Christmas baby. I didn’t know that”

There’s a pause on Louis’ end, and when he speaks he sounds vaguely contrite. “I, yeah, I didn’t tell you.”

“You didn’t.” Nick agrees, stretching his feet out to see if he can touch the wall. He can’t, and has to stop when the attempt almost causes his foot to start cramping. “I feel bad.”

“Don’t,” Louis nearly stumbles over the word. “Don’t feel bad, Nick, it’s not… I didn’t tell you because I didn’t want to make it weird.”

“It’s your birthday, how would that be weird?”

“I didn’t want you to feel like you had to make a thing out of it when we haven’t-“

Louis trails off and Nick’s heart stutters a little in his chest. They have spent a lot of time together lately, and even though they’ve managed an awkward conversation over text about how neither of them is currently seeing anyone else this is different. This is potentially putting a label on something that Nick isn’t sure he has ever had with someone else. Something that feels shock full of possibilities. Delicate and promising and scarily easy.

“My mum asked me when they were going to get to meet ‘my new boy’.” Nick says, hiding his face in his hand as he does, because he’s a grown-up and can deal with feelings however he pleases. His heart is beating so hard he’s surprised Louis can’t hear it over the phone.

Nick fidgets while he waits for Louis to reply, pulling on a thread in the duvet. He has rarely made it this long with anyone he has dated, nearly two months without screwing it all up might be a new record. So when his mum had asked him about Louis he had stuttered through an answer until she patted his cheek and told him to stop hyperventilating. Telling Louis about their conversation feels equally terrifying but he opts for honesty anyway, silently hoping it won’t send Louis running for the hills. Nick has seen him run and he’s really fast, Nick wouldn’t be able to keep up.

“’Your boy’, huh?” Louis says, finally, and Nick lets out a breath he hadn’t been aware he was holding at the evident smile in his voice.

“Yep.” Nick agrees, popping the p, and then decides that ‘fuck it’, it’s Christmas and if it all goes to Hell at least there is enough wine around for him to drown himself in. He draws a deep breath and goes for it. “In the interest of full disclosure; I’m kind of arse over tits for you, Tomlinson.”

An eternity passes while he waits for Louis to reply. Nick can’t find it in himself to regret his words though, kind of relieved that it’s out in the open.

“Well, in the interest of full disclosure,” Louis drawls eventually, chuckling quietly and making Nick’s insides do that squirmy thing they’ve taken up whenever he’s around Louis. “You’re kind of okay, too, Grimshaw.”

“Yeah?” The question is out before he has time to reconsider, and he cringes a bit at the obviously insecure tone of his voice.

“When you called I reached for my phone so fast I nearly fell off the sofa. My sister saw the caller ID and I had to leave the room so you wouldn’t hear them screeching about my ‘new boyfriend’.”

Nick laughs. “I would have liked to see that.” He admits, revelling in Louis’ answering chuckle.

They chat for a while, Louis telling him about how his house has never felt small until it was overtaken by the Tomlinson-Deakin clan, how good it is to see his siblings and be able to have proper chats with his mum. A good thirty minutes later they’re interrupted by commotion on Louis’ end, as his sisters find him and demand he return to his birthday celebrations.

“There’s cake to be had, apparently.” Louis explains, sounding so fond Nick has to bite his lip to keep from grinning. “And I’m going out with the lads later so I better get back or they’ll chain me to the table and refuse to let me leave.”

They say their goodbyes, and Nick returns downstairs right on time for dinner and board game mayhem with the Grimshaw clan. He wakes up on Christmas Day to a text from Louis waiting for him, received at half three in the morning.

_Called u my boyfriend tonight when Stan asked. like it. xxx_

 

 

 

 

Nick drives back to London one day earlier than planned and with butterflies raging in his stomach. Louis had texted him on Boxing Day, inviting Nick to his next home game and letting him know his family would all be there, eager to meet Nick.

Somehow, Nick had agreed to meet them, he’s still not sure what possessed him to say yes. It’s the first time he has been introduced to the parents, really, and the whole concept feels completely alien and a lot terrifying. Nick isn’t sure he’s meet-the-family material.

When he gets back to London he gets ready quickly, and makes it to Emirates Stadium without too big a hassle. Louis has left a ticket to one of the boxes for him, and it’s only when he’s making his way up there that he realizes what he’s about to do. Not only is he meeting all of Louis’ closest family at once, he’s actually doing it without Louis present. Sure, he could hide and not make conversation with anyone until after the game, when Louis has promised to meet up with them, but he already knows it won’t be possible. Adrenaline pumping in his veins, he makes it to the box, finding the indoor space full of people.

It’s most likely family or other guests of some of Louis’ teammates, and Nick spots Louis’ mum and siblings easily enough having done his social media research in the car. He’s hovering by the door, unsure of what to do next when Louis’ mum spots him, immediately handing the toddler on her arm over to a guy who Nick presumes is her husband before walking over.

“Nick, right?” She smiles warmly, offering him her hand. “I’m Jay. Nice to meet you.”

Nick returns the greeting, not missing out on the subtle once-over she’s giving him. There is barely time for them to finish their introductions before the rest of Louis’ family descends upon them, and Nick is forced to spend a confusing five minutes trying to get everyone’s names straight while simultaneously not making a fool of himself.

Louis’ oldest sister finally takes pity on him, dragging him to the side and spends a good fifteen minutes grilling him about his interview with Ollie Alexander of Years & Years the week before Christmas. The match has started when they return to the others, and Nick pays as much attention at it’s possible to while surrounded by children of various ages and a mum he’s trying to make a good impression on.

It’s nice, though, and easy to see where Louis gets his charm and energy from as he watches Jay wrangle her brood towards the refreshments in half time. He likes Dan well enough too. The only male member of the Tomlinson-Deakin clan over the age of five is also the one most interested in the game, but the second the referee signals for half time he turns to Nick.

The match ends in a draw, and soon enough Nick finds himself herded downstairs together with Louis’ family and showed to the corridor outside the team’s dressing room. The players are leaving in a steady stream of black suits, red ties, expensive looking headphones and designer toiletry bags.

They are left waiting for a bit before Louis walks out the door and it could potentially be awkward but there’s no time for awkward with Louis’ family around, Nick learns. It’s noisy and full speed ahead. When Louis shows up he is immediately surrounded by his siblings, earning himself more than one amused look from teammates and staff in the corridor.

“Alright, there.” Louis laughs, arms around the older twins and nearly losing his balance as his little brother attaches himself to Louis’ leg. Finally free he accepts a hug from Dan and a kiss on the cheek from his mum. Nick stays in the background not really sure how to react around Louis with his family around. They really should have talked this through beforehand, he thinks, definitely panicking a bit. When Louis turns to him he’s suddenly keenly aware of the way at least six pair of eyes are glued to the both of them.

So apparently awkwardness was possible. He shuffles, not sure what to do with his hands, and is caught off guard as Louis makes a face. Louis is facing away from everyone else, the grimace for Nick’s eyes only and it’s enough to have him fighting back a smile.

“Hi, babe.” He offers, and when Louis steps into his personal space he wraps an arm around Louis’ shoulders on pure instinct. The suit jacket is a little coarse against his palm, and Louis is right there and Nick might be becoming addicted to the way he smells fresh out of the shower.

“Hey.” Louis parrots. He’s looking at Nick with a question in his eyes, and Nick can see Jay from the corner of his eyes watching them in barely concealed amusement. Deciding she looks approving enough and there being no one else around but them, he decides to go for it. He smiles back down at Louis, accepting the quick peck and following it up with a second, longer kiss. It’s enough for Louis’ older sisters to start snickering, and Louis must make some kind of gesture behind his back because there’s an exasperated ‘Lou!’ from Jay.

They end up going out to an early dinner, crowding around a huge table at an Italian place not too far from the stadium. There isn’t a quiet moment and it’s lovely. Nick enjoys watching Louis interact with his siblings, making silly faces at the youngest that have them squealing with laughter and teasing the tweenies about their snapchat addictions.

On his way back from the loos, Nick finds himself cornered by Louis in the short passageway leading back into the restaurant. “Gotta stop meeting like this,” He jokes gesturing to the deserted hallway.

“No bratty little sisters around this time.” Louis points out, hands in his pockets. He has taken off his suit jacket and removed the tie, and the first two buttons of his shirt are unbuttoned to reveal a hint of his chest tattoo. He looks so blindingly good Nick doesn’t understand how it’s possible to look straight at him.

“I noticed.” Nick admits, stepping up to him and secretly loving the way Louis has to tilt his head back a little to look him in the eye. “Better make the most of it.” Louis gives him a long-suffering look but kisses him back when Nick puts their lips together in a quick kiss.

“The babies are getting tired so I think everyone’s getting ready to leave.” Louis says, reaching out to touch the slim scarf Nick has around his neck, tugging a little at the patterned silk. The back of his hand brushes against Nick’s chest as he does and it’s enough to send shivers down Nick’s spine. “You look so good in this. I like your shirt.”

“Thanks.” It takes him a while to get the words out.

“I’m gonna-“ Louis nods in direction of the toilets.

Nick doesn’t voice a protest but as Louis walks past he reaches out to curl a hand around his elbow, stopping him in his tracks. Needing to kiss him one more time, itching to have him pressed up against himself, Nick swallows Louis’ breathy sound of surprise by kissing him long and deep. It’s stupid, someone could walk around the corner at any moment and spot them. Worse; Louis’ mum could find them like this. Nick can’t find it in himself to care. He hasn’t had Louis to himself in over a week, and the way they’re pressed together chest to chest is efficiently reminding him that it’s been even longer since he last had Louis naked in his bed. He deepens the kiss and breathes out a content sigh as Louis’ hand curl around his hip to pull him closer still. The sound of something clattering to the floor inside the kitchen startles them both enough to break off the kiss.

Breathing out heavily, Nick pulls a hand through his hair as he waits for his heartbeat to calm down. Louis looks equally affected, leaning back against the wall and Nick can’t look away. He briefly considers dragging Louis into the gent’s, aching to get his hands and mouth on him, but knows they’ve both been gone for too long already and someone is bound to come looking for them.

“I can’t believe you’re giving me that look when my whole family is around the corner.” Louis groans, banging the back of his head lightly against the wall. “Fuck. I wish you could come home with me. Do you think my mum would mind if I got them all hotel rooms for tonight?”

“I don’t care, I’d help you pay for them.” Nick replies and they’re joking but if he’s honest he wishes they weren’t. “When do they leave?”

“They go back up to Donny tomorrow and then we have training in the afternoon.”

“So I won’t see you until New Year’s.” 

Louis nods, for a second looking so disappointed Nick has to kiss him again just to make the frown on his face disappear.

“It’s a date.” He whispers, lips still so close to Louis’ mouth they’re almost touching. For a moment neither of them move, the air around them feeling so charged Nick wouldn’t be surprised if you could see sparks. It’s thrilling, makes his heart beat faster, thumping steadily against his ribcage. He can hear Louis’ breath hitch, his fingers twitching against Nick’s waist.

Louis makes a garbled sound of frustration suddenly, pressing another kiss against Nick’s lips before pushing him away. “Go. Get back out there before I forget why getting naked in this hallway is a bad idea.”

Nick returns to the table to find everyone ready to leave, only waiting for the two of them. There’s no nothing subtle about the look Jay gives him and he’s deftly ignoring the smug grin on her face as he puts his coat on.

 

 

 

 

Several hours later Nick’s in bed, wide awake. It’s nearly two in the morning and Pig’s snoring down by his legs. He should be sleeping too, but he can’t stop replaying the day’s events. The memory of having Louis’ up against the wall at the restaurant has left him restless and with an itch under his skin that he can’t ignore. Frustrated, he momentarily gives up all pretense of sleep and reaches for his phone on the bedside table. He pulls the duvet up, curling on his side with his phone half buried underneath the covers. Deciding to start with twitter he opens the app only to find a tweet from Louis at the top of his feed. It’s a retweet from one of his teammates, something about their upcoming match. That’s not the important bit. It was posted fourteen minutes ago and Nick has barely seen the timestamp before he’s dialling Louis’ number. 

Louis picks up after the first ring. “Is this a booty call, Nicholas?” He greets him, and Nick can hear the smile in his voice clearly over the line. It makes something in his chest twist warmly, a balm on the itch he’s been struggling with. “Because if it is I wholeheartedly approve.”

Nick pulls the duvet up higher around his chin. “It could be?” He replies, not relaxed enough to ignore the burst of electricity zapping through his system at Louis’ words. It’s like there’s a physical ache in his bones from lack of touching Louis, only made worse by their brief moments alone earlier. “Can’t sleep.”

“Me neither” Louis replies. “Was watching a movie with Lottie and now I’m wide awake. Gonna be knackered in the morning when the twins come barging in to wake me up.”

“Sounds dreamy,” Nick chuckles, stretching lazily and turning to lie on his back. “I had a good time today, forgot to tell you earlier. Your family’s nice.”

“They liked you.” Louis says, and it shouldn’t feel like a huge achievement but it does. It feels great, knowing he didn’t make a horrible first impression. “Mum tried to question me a bit earlier, she’s curious about you, about us.”

“What did you tell her?”

“That I like you too.”

“That all?”

“I couldn’t exactly tell her you make me so fucking horny I can barely function.” Louis tells him, completely casual, as if his words aren’t enough to set Nick’s blood on fire. “But that, too.”

“Fuck.” Nick breathes out, reaching down to squeeze himself through his pants. “Lou-”

“That’s the thing, isn’t it? You still haven’t fucked me. You promised you would.” Louis cuts him off, a breathy quality to his voice that has Nick immediately on alert.

“Are you-”

“Am I what?” Louis says, another soft sigh more than answer enough but suddenly Nick has to know, want’s to hear him say it.

“Fuck, are you touching yourself?” Nick breathes out, closing a hand around his own dick and giving it a slow, firm stroke. Heat unfurls in the pit of his stomach, spreading through his limbs. It’s getting too hot under the duvet but he can’t stop touching himself for long enough to throw it off. 

“Maybe.” Louis replies, making it completely obvious that he is as he follows it up with a quiet groan. “You’re not here to do it. Wish you were, your hands, fuck, Nick. I can’t stop thinking about your hands, your fingers. Wanna feel you.”

There’s a risk Nick might not make it to see the morning, feeling like he’s seconds away from spontaneously combusting. “‘s why I couldn’t sleep.” He admits, “Kept thinking about you, about how I was around you all day and couldn’t touch you the way I wanted to. Always want to touch you.”

“Shit.” Louis curses, and Nick thinks he can hear him touching himself. “Me too, fuck, is it too early to send my family packing at two in the morning?”

“Do it.” Nick groans, not that sure he’s actually joking.

“Don’t tempt me, shit.” Louis groans, then pauses, a moment of silence when all Nick can hear is the sound of his laboured breathing. “They’re all asleep by now.” Louis continues, “Probably wouldn’t notice if I left for a bit.”

“Yes.” Nick blurts out, momentarily stunned at the prospect at actually getting Louis to himself a good two days before planned. “Yes, please, get here.”

“Okay, yeah.” Louis agrees, breathlessly. “Yeah, okay, I’ll come over.”

They hang up, and Nick spends a good two minutes on his back, trying to get his breathing back to normal. Leaving Pig behind he pulls on pants and a pair of jeans, shivering a bit as he walks out into the kitchen. He empties the dishwasher while he waits, then wipes down his kitchen counters and carefully washes his hands after to make sure they don’t smell like wet dish rag. It feels strange, doing housework half hard in his pants but he needs something to do, something to distract him during the twenty-something minutes it takes Louis to get there. He’s staring blankly at the neon sign Harry gave him for his birthday when the doorbell chimes. The sound echoes in the otherwise silent apartment, and it’s not even two seconds later that Pig begins barking up a storm and comes running out of the bedroom.

“Pig, no.” Nick follows her to the door, wincing at the volume. “Quiet.”

Louis is on the other side of the door, as expected, wearing a peacoat that Nick has never seen on him and looking positively edible. Pig stops barking at the sight of him, tail wagging furiously as she twists around his legs, begging for attention. Nick can relate. “Hi.” He couldn’t keep the smile off his face if he tried, reaching down to pull Pig back.

“Hi.” Louis replies, walking right up to Nick and, cradling his face in both hands, kisses him deeply. Nick nearly moans at the taste of him and the warmth radiating off him, his arms instinctively going around Louis’ waist underneath the coat. “This is,” Louis mumbles against his lips, kissing him again before he continues, “one of the most desperate thing I’ve ever done, fuck. I can’t get enough of you.”

“Same,” Nick gets out between kisses, and it feels like if they actually stopped to think about it, they’d realize they’re having a real moment here. But for now he doesn’t have time to stop and think about what this possibly means, can only focus on getting Louis naked and in his bed. He pushes the coat off his shoulders, not caring at all about how it lands in a rumpled pile on the floor. Louis is only wearing a t-shirt underneath, a soft, threadbare one with a drooping collar. Nick leans in, breathing in the scent of him when he buries his nose in the dip of Louis’ collarbone, inhaling deeply. He slips his hands underneath the worn fabric of Louis’ t-shirt as he kisses and licks his way fabric up the delicious curve of Louis’ throat, feeling the way his pulse is hammering. 

“You make me so hot.” Louis groans, pulling back enough to pull the t-shirt off before reaching for Nick. He rakes his fingers over Nick’s chest, thumb brushing over Nick’s nipple, making him shiver. “I can barely focus during practice some days, too busy thinking about you, how your day is going, thinking about you fucking me.” He doesn’t stop touching him, sliding his hands down Nick’s back, groping his bum and bringing their hips together.

Nick groans, grabbing Louis’ hip to keep them pressed together. “Me too,” he manages. “God.”

Louis trails a hand slowly down Nick’s arm, intertwining their fingers before looking up at Nick through his messy fringe and Nick could swear his heart skips a beat. “Take me to bed.” Louis says, a hint a of question in his tone.

“Yeah.” Nick agrees, hoarsely, feeling like his legs might actually give up if they continue on like this while standing in his hallway. “Yeah, I can, I can do that. Just, hold on-”

He lets go reluctantly, quickly getting Pig’s attention and walking her over to her dog bed in the living room. Satisfied she’ll stay put, he follows where Louis disappeared in direction of his bedroom. He walks through the door as Louis tosses his joggers in direction of the chair in the corner. He’s not wearing anything underneath. It’s enough to nearly make him stumble over the threshold, and there’s no way he could miss the pleased look on Louis’ face. 

“Your turn.” Louis smirks, lying back against the rumpled duvet and fixing Nick with an expectant look. He’s a little flushed and a lot gorgeous where he lays, slowly dragging a hand down his own chest towards his dick.

Nick rolls his eyes but goes for his belt, deliberately doing it slow enough for Louis’ brow to crease in frustration. He adds a little shimmy, watching the frown turn into a smile. The whistle that follows has Nick chuckling as he unzips his skinnies, slowly pushing them down his hips along with his pants. It feels fun and easy, having Louis’ attention on him like this a concept he’s slowly getting used to. He’s deftly aware of Louis’ eyes on him as he rises to full height after tugging his jeans off, leaving them on the floor.

“You’re so bloody gorgeous.” Louis tells him and Nick definitely blushes at that. Being watched is one thing, compliments a whole different concept.

“Shut up.”

Louis shrugs, smile intact. “Just telling the truth. Now come here.”

Nick does what he’s told, putting one knee on the bed as Louis sits up up to meet him before pulling Nick down with him as he lies back against the mattress. They kiss lazily, impatient need momentarily satisfied by the sensation of skin against skin. It’s not enough though, and soon Nick reaches down to wrap a hand around both of them, swallowing the sound Louis makes in another kiss. Focusing on Louis he wanks him with quick twists of his wrist, feeling him harden in his hand before he lets go, giving his balls a squeeze before moving further back. He’s relishing in the way Louis shivers against him, and pushes his own achingly hard erection against Louis’ groin as he feels the sensitive skin behind Louis’ balls and then his rim, finding him wet and open. “Did you -”

Louis chuckles at the low curse he lets out, the laughter cutting off with a gasp when Nick slips a finger inside of him easily. “Surprise.” He manages, the word ending in a moan when Nick adds another finger, carefully scissoring him open.

Nick falls forward, groaning against Louis’ sternum, for a moment unable to do anything but try and get some air back into his lungs, mind full of images of Louis fingering himself open on his big bed. Louis hands him the lube before carding his fingers through Nick’s hair and down his neck. He’s forced to let go as Nick moves lower, sitting back on his haunches and trailing the ridges of Louis’ abs with his mouth. He takes his time, placing kisses all over Louis’ lower abdomen, the inside of his thighs, while he works him open on his fingers. Eventually Louis is a breathless, trembling mess, gripping Nick’s shoulder hard enough to hurt. 

“Nick.” It comes out strained, and Nick looks up to find Louis looking at him with a near feverish sheen in his eyes.

“You good?” Nick asks, enjoying the way a twist of his fingers ruins Louis’ attempt at a derisive snort and instead has him arching off the mattress, cursing loudly. 

“I’m good, so good.”

“How do you wanna do this?”

“Like this.” Louis gasps out, fingers digging into Nick’s bicep. “Wanna see you.”

Nick takes his time despite Louis’ obvious impatience, reaching for a pillow and tapping Louis’ thigh until he lifts his hips off the bed so that Nick can get the pillow under him. He has to stop and breathe before rolling the condom on and slicking himself up with lube, fearing he might come at any second. He feels a bit like he’s doing this for the first time; feeling too raw and too close to coming just from getting Louis ready. He moves closer, pushing Louis’ legs further apart and stops to place a kiss against the soft skin on the inside of his knee. Louis rolls his eyes at the gesture, but his hand finds Nick’s where it’s clutching his thigh.

“You ready?” Nick asks, searching Louis’ face for any trace of discomfort or second thoughts.

“I’ve been ready for months.” Louis points out, going as far as to kick him lightly in the thigh with his heel “Now get to it, you bloody tease.”

“So bossy.” Nick chuckles, but all joking comments are quickly forgotten once he actually pushes inside. Drowned out by the overwhelming feeling of Louis around him and underneath him. He tries to take it slow, aware of the slight furrow of Louis’ brow as he bottoms out, watching him closely until the crinkle disappears. “Okay?” He chokes out, and he can feel himself trembling, caught between wanting to get deeper, and not daring to move a muscle for the fear of coming too soon. He runs a hand up and down Louis’ side comfortingly while he waits, all while trying to steady his own erratic breathing.

Louis, who is stroking Nick’s back in turn, looks him straight in the eyes and then nods. “Yes, I promise. All good.” He’s gorgeous, Nick couldn’t take his eyes off him if he tried. He has to kiss him, fusing their lips together and licking into Louis’ mouth with barely contained frenzy. Louis gives as good as he gets, hand fisting in Nick’s hair to keep him close, angling his head the way he wants it as he aims to control the kiss. It’s all for nothing as Nick starts moving, Louis’ mouth dropping open on a silent moan. “Again, come on, wanna fucking feel it.”

Nick doesn’t need to be told twice, doesn’t need more encouragement to let go of his control a bit and drive into Louis’ hard. Finding a rhythm he likes, Nick’s soon moving his hips at a pace that nearly has Louis skidding up the bed. Nick moves with him, scrambling for purchase on the sheets, his breath punched out of him in hot bursts of air against Louis’ neck. It’s almost too much. Louis is pushing back against him, the sounds pushed out of him nothing but a mixture of attempted words and breathless moans. Nick is deftly aware of every point of contact between them, the slick heat of Louis squeezing him, the drag of their sweat-slick skin and the vice like grip Louis has on his shoulder. He should slow down, make it last, but it’s been too long coming and there’s no holding back as they both race towards the finish line. He kisses along Louis’ jawline, tasting the sweat damping the skin below his ear. “You feel so good.” He chokes out. “Fuck.”

“Yes.” Louis manages to get out, and Nick’s not even sure what he’s replying to, doesn’t care. Can barely focus on anything but now coming right then and there. He sucks in a breath as Louis reaches down to wrap a fist around himself, the back of his hand brushing against Nick’s stomach as he does. Louis’s using his other hand to pinch and tug at his own nipple and cries out when Nick leans down to taste it, soothing the reddened bud with his tongue.

“I’m gonna come.” Nick warns him, closing his lips around Louis’ nipple again, as he reaches out to rub the pad of his thumb over the other. He’s trembling from exertion and the overwhelming feeling of Louis underneath him, can barely support his own weight on his elbows

Louis doesn’t reply, but curls around Nick’s jaw and pulling him into a sloppy kiss that’s soon nothing more than the two of them panting against each other’s lips as Nick tumbles over the edge, hips jerking as he spills into the condom. For a moment there’s nothing but silence, sparks flying behind his closed eyelids and his fingertips tingling. He comes back to himself in increments, noticing the way he’s barely holding any of his own weight, sprawled over Louis, the way he has trapped Louis’ hand between them, still wrapped around his dick, the breathy whimpers Louis are exhaling against his hair. Nick shifts, slowly, dragging himself up on his elbows and allowing Louis to move his hand as he does. Louis sets a furious pace, wanking himself fast and hard, a slight furrow on his brow as he chases climax. Nick watches him, dick twitching in interest where he’s still buried deep. He manages a long, slow push of his hips, too sensitive for anything more but it’s enough, Louis comes with a choked off sob, spilling over his own hand and stomach.

When Louis goes boneless against the mattress Nick pulls out. He discards of the condom, using a corner of the duvet to wipe Louis’ stomach down before he rolls them both over, tugging Louis’ along with a hand on his thigh until he’s draped over Nick’s chest, panting into his neck.

Louis is a grounding weight on top of him, squirming when Nick trails his fingers down his side and mumbling unintelligibly against his skin. It’s too hot like this, sticky and a little uncomfortable yet Nick feels content, drenched in gold, like he could fall asleep like this and rest until morning. Time stretches out, nothing audible in the room but the sound of their breathing slowly evening out. Louis’ hand pushing Nick’s hair back from his face stops him from nodding off, followed by Louis crossing his arms atop Nick’s chest, resting his chin on his arms. Nick watches him through barely open eyes, and leans automatically into the touch when Louis’ palm comes to rest against his cheek.

“That was...” Louis chuckles quietly, thumb brushing over Nick’s cheekbone. His eyes are so, so blue when Nick looks up at him. Blue and sparkling with mischief. “Adequate.” He’s joking, so ridiculously pleased with himself Nick is sure his own fond expression could be seen from space. Louis’ chuckle turns into a yelp when when Nick pinches his waist, then increases in volume as he laughs against Nick’s chest.

“Mediocre.” Nick agrees, and he can feel himself smiling, can’t do anything but. His hand slides lazily from Louis’ waist to the swell of his bum, resting there. “There’s definitely room for improvement.”

“Practice makes perfect. We’ll have to practice lots, think you’re up for that?” Louis replies, grinning, leaning up to kiss him once, twice, a third time before he pulls back. “What time is it?”

Nick reaches out for his phone on the bedside table without looking, fumbling around until he finds the familiar shape of it. Louis takes it when Nick offers it to him, the angle making it impossible for him to see for himself. “Shit, it’s nearly four o’clock. I need to get back.”

Nick frowns, doesn’t like the sound of that one bit. He knows it’s true though, knows that Louis has a house full of family that will be expecting him to be there in the morning. Wouldn’t want to keep him from saying goodbye to his siblings or his mum. “Five more minutes,” he tries instead, speaking the words softly against Louis’ temple.

Louis groans, head falling forward until his face is buried in Nick’s throat. “Yes, fuck, wish I could stay.”

“Next time.” Nick says, wrapping both arms around him, keeping him firmly in place. “Now, shush.”

It ends up being closer to fifteen, and then Nick watches from the bed as Louis saunters through the room in search of his clothes. Such a shame, hiding all that gorgeous skin away.

“Talk to you later, yeah?” Louis says, one knee on the bed as he leans down for a kiss and he must have been expecting a struggle, steadily resisting Nick’s attempt to pull him back down into bed. Nick’s not pouting, he’s not, but there’s plenty of bottom lip for Louis to playfully sink his teeth into when he kisses him again.

He dozes off after Louis leaves, sleeping in fitful stops and starts, too sticky with dried sweat to get comfortable. At eight he gives up, dragging himself into the shower and standing under the spray like for a good five minutes before he can do as much as think of washing. Afterwards he makes a detour into the kitchen to feed Pig and lets her out into the backyard, too lazy to take her for an actual walk and making a silent promise they’ll go once he’s in a less zombie like state. There’s one can of diet coke left in his fridge and he brings it with him to the bedroom, haphazardly making his bed before collapsing in it. He picks up his phone that he had left charging on the cluttered bedside table, unplugging it when the cord won’t let him sit back the way he wants. There’s a couple of texts from Louis there that he must have somehow slept through, received at five in the morning not long after Louis left.

_Got caught by mum sneaking back in_

_Wtf is she doing up at five ???_

_She can’t stop laughing help_

A little horrified but more amused, Nick texts back as he sips his drink.

_Sorry love_

_Tell her you went for a really early morning run?_

He doesn’t expect a reply, assuming Louis is fast asleep, so he’s surprised when his phone chimes only half a minute later.

_The mark you had left on my neck kinda ruled that one out. Cheers for that btw_

_They’ve gone now. Mum was still laughing_

_I’m knackered. Gonna crash for a bit but ttyl yeah?_

Nick’s laughing to himself as he replies, thumbs moving across the keyboard a little slower than usual.

_Not sorry_

_Yes. get some sleep xxx_

He drops his phone on the mattress, settling down on his side. Louis’ idea of more sleep sounds like an excellent idea, and he has already closed his eyes when his phone buzzes again.

_Worth it xxx_

 

 

 

 

Nick likes fashion. He enjoys every aspect of it; shopping, putting outfits together, trying new things and going out knowing he looks good. Right now though, he’s not a fan.

His bedroom looks like a disaster zone, there are clothes everywhere and he is probably less than five minutes from completely losing his mind. He has nothing to wear and he’s already sent out an SOS to Rita and Aimee both but neither has replied and the car will be outside in twenty minutes.

God, he needs a drink. Throwing yet another discarded shirt on the bed he walks down the hallway towards the kitchen. He misses Pig following him around, keeping him company but knows she’s better off in Oldham for New Year’s where the fireworks aren’t as over the top and she can be doted on by his parents and their friends.

He finds an already opened bottle of wine in the fridge and takes a swig straight from it. He pours some into a glass next, bringing his drink back with him. He finds a text from Rita on his phone when he returns, opening it as he sips his drink.

_breathe babes. go with the cheetah print. have fun love you xxx_

Right. Of course she’d go with the outfit he had started out with half an hour ago, the one he’d planned on wearing until he suddenly felt like it was all wrong. He makes a detour into the bathroom to make sure his hair looks okay still, before he gets dressed. He makes a haphazard attempt of cleaning up the mess, mostly shoving things into his closet, and spends the last five minutes drinking his wine and texting Rita.

The dinner is a raucous affair. There’s good food and funny hats and tequila. Nick really loves his friends, even when they tease him mercilessly about his plans to abandon them later. Not to mention how Alexa takes one look on his face as a text from Louis lights up his phone, and deems him “too smitten for words”.

He is pleasantly drunk when he takes a taxi from the restaurant to the club where Louis is waiting. He can’t remember who’s behind renting out the place for a private celebration, thinks it might be one of Louis’ teammates. There are a lot of people outside the club when the car pulls up, paparazzi too, and Nick has to shield his eyes from the flashes as he makes his way over to the doors.

He texts Louis while the people in charge check their lists, sending him a simple ‘ _here_ ’. Music envelops him as he walks inside, met by the sight of people mingling and drinking and being merry. It’s less than an hour left of the year and everyone seems to be in high spirits.

Suddenly Louis is right in front of him, looking sharp in a shiny, black blazer over a dark red t-shirt, hair pulled back from his face and Nick’s heart does a somersault at the sight of him.

“Hello,” Louis says, grinning as he blatantly checks Nick out. “You clean up nice, Grimshaw.”

Nick stares, can’t quite focus on the compliment. Louis’ blazer fits him perfectly, accentuating his waist and making him look like a million pounds. Overwhelmed by the need to touch, he reaches out to brush his fingers over Louis’ lapel, the fabric silky cool underneath his fingertips.

“Earth to Nick?”

The question brings Nick out of his reverie, and he looks up to find Louis smiling at him fondly. “I really want to kiss you right now.” Nick says, can’t quite mask his urgency and cursing the fact that they’re surrounded by so many people. The urge to kiss Louis is making him dizzy. “Fuck, Lou, you look gorgeous.”

The kiss takes him by surprise, causes him to sway where he stands and Louis wraps an arm tightly around his waist, pulling him closer. He groans into the kiss, chasing Louis’ lips when the other pulls back, earning himself another peck.

“There.” Louis says, eyes dark and Nick wants to take him straight to bed, briefly considers throwing him over his shoulder and walking straight back out of the club. “Come on, the others have been asking for you.” Louis says, taking Nick’s hand in his and squeezing gently.

They make their way further inside, stopping by the bar to pick up two glasses of champagne before walking over to the booth where Liam and Sophia are seated together with a few other faces Nick recognizes from the Christmas dinner. Louis hasn’t had much to drink, explaining that they all have practice the next day and merely shrugs when Nick balks at the idea of practice on the 1st of January.

“We have a game on Saturday,” he explains, clinking his champagne flute with Nick’s as Sophia reaches across the table to ask Nick about something they spoke about the last time they saw each other. Nick busies himself with the conversation, soon cooing over dog pictures with Sophia, anchored by Louis’ hand on his knee under the table.

Midnight is a blur of confetti and cheering, the DJ blasting ABBA from the speakers as people hug and kiss and empty their glasses. Nick barely notices, too occupied with the feeling of Louis pressed up against him, cradling his face in his hands as they kiss. He feels overheated, shirt sticking damply to his back, and like he might burst out of his own skin at any second.

He’s had his fair share of New Year’s kisses over the years. Drunken snogs with almost strangers and happy smooches with friends. There’s even been one or two more emotionally charged ones, but nothing can compare to this, he decides, groaning as Louis nips at his lower lip before licking into his mouth. He turns his head, feeling Louis’ stubble against his lips, kissing his cheek, his jaw. It’s almost too much; this overwhelming feeling he gets whenever it’s the two of them like this. But it’s not only their sexual chemistry that leaves him breathless and dizzy, craving more. He’s never been the hopeless romantic, always a touch too cynical and unwilling to compromise very much to accommodate another person. He’s been thinking differently, lately, and it should be scaring the crap out of him, he knows. It doesn’t though, and somehow that’s almost more frightening.

Mostly though, he just wants Louis in any way, shape or form he can have him.

“Home,” he rasps out against Louis ear, catching the lobe between his teeth and tugging, pleased when Louis trembles against him, tightening his grip around Nick’s waist.

“Yeah.” Louis gets out, grinding their hips together. “Yes. Let’s go.” They weave through the crowd, barely able to keep their hands off one another while they wait for a car. Eventually it’s their turn, but Louis pulls him to a halt right before they leave the club. “There will be paps,” he says, looking much too serious and sober for their boisterous surroundings.

“Right.” Nick agrees, at once feeling a little too drunk, wanting to pull Louis closer to steady him. “Do you want me to-“

“Are you okay-“

They both trail off, looking at the other. Nick holds his breath, not wanting to be the one to speak first.

“I was going to say,” Louis continues eventually. “Are you sure you want to be photographed with me?”

Nick is fairly certain he’s doing a very unflattering fish impression but he can literally feel his jaw drop to somewhere level with his knees. “What?”

“It’s okay if you don’t, I know it’s a lot.”

“Are you serious?” He replies, manoeuvring them so that they’re a little more off to the side, shielding Louis from the rest of the club and leaning in close. “Love, listen to me. I am so gone for you I think I’d happily dance out of here naked if you asked me to. I think the question should be whether or not _you_ want to do this?”

Louis frowns, thumb brushing over Nick’s jawline. “I don’t want to hide anymore.” He admits, pulling Nick down to kiss him, briefly.

“Alright then,” Nick says, feeling like they have just had a moment he’s a little too sloshed to appreciate fully, promising that he’ll return to bask in it later. He pulls back, winking at Louis to hide his own sudden burst of nerves. “Lead the way, _Tommo_.”

Louis swats his shoulder with an exasperated eye roll, but resolutely links their fingers together when they start walking. Stepping through the doors they are immediately hounded by the paparazzi. Nick nearly stumbles, and in the end decides to simply keep his head down and focus on walking straight. The paps are shouting their names, for them to look their way, and Nick can feel Louis tighten his grip on Nick’s hand.

They both breathe a sigh of relief once they’re inside the car, the back seat dark and quiet. Nick runs his fingers through his hair, looking over at Louis to find him already looking back. The kiss starts out softer this time, less frantic, but quickly grows more heated as the urgency from before comes rushing back. Nick slides closer to Louis on the leather seat, placing a hand high up on Louis’ thigh, squeezing, nails catching on the inseam of his trousers before he moves it further up.

Louis moans, low in his throat, throwing a cautious look at the driver. Nick cups him through his jeans, grinning against Louis’ cheek when the other man covers his hand with his own, trying to stop Nick’s advances. 

“Can’t wait to get these off.” He speaks close to Louis’ ear, biting gently at the soft skin behind it. “Wanna taste you. Want to fucking feel you from the inside.” He’s not speaking quietly enough, he knows. It’s obvious when the driver clears his throat pointedly and Louis sits up straighter next to him.

“Nick,” he breathes out, voice trembling and he’s hard, so hard, hips jerking into Nick’s touch.

Nick squeezes him again, taxi driver be damned, listening to Louis struggle to keep quiet. 

“Fuck.” Louis says, squirming in his seat. His hand is wrapped so tightly around Nick’s wrist Nick wouldn’t be surprised if he were to wake up with bruises tomorrow, for a moment hoping that he will.

“You’re so hard, babe. You going to let me put my mouth on you? Let me-”

Louis cuts him off with a kiss, and it’s probably right on time unless they fancy walking home. Nick allows himself to be side-tracked for a while, chasing the taste of champagne on Louis’ tongue. When the car comes to a stop outside Nick’s house they stumble out of the backseat, Louis tipping the driver generously while Nick makes his way down the stairs to unlock the door. He’s got the key in the lock when Louis crashes into him, arms wrapping around his waist from behind.

“You’re a menace, God,” Louis hisses, and Nick’s laugh turns into a moan as he slides his hands lower to cup Nick through his trousers. “So desperate, giving that poor guy a real show, huh?”

Nick gives up on his attempt to get the door unlocked; struggling to breathe as Louis massages him through the thin layer of his trousers. He’s so hard, has been ready to go since the club and Louis’ hand is providing just enough pressure to have all the blood in his head rushing south.

“Did it get you going?” Louis continues, jerkily working the button open and pushing the zipper down. “Knowing he could hear every word you were saying?”

Nick doesn’t reply, can barely think through the red heat clouding his vision. “Inside, love, let’s-” The nickname comes out garbled, and he bangs his forehead against the door hard enough for it to smart a bit when Louis finally reaches down to wrap a hand around him.

“I don’t think so,” Louis drawls, working him over slowly, movement a little stifled by the layers he’s still wearing. “Turn around.”

Nick obeys, stumbling around to face Louis, not fond of how it dislodges Louis’ grip around his aching dick. It’s cold out, nearly freezing, and neither of them are wearing a coat over their suits but he still feels like he’s burning up. He leans back against the door, grateful it’s there to keep him upright as the world spins around him. He kisses Louis back sloppily, groaning into the kiss as Louis’ hand finds its way back inside his pants.

When Louis drops to a crouch in front of him Nick’s brain nearly short circuits. They’re hidden from view, the curve of the stairs and the railing making it hard for anyone to see the door or the two of them. Still, it wouldn’t take much for someone to catch a view, or hear them.

“Lou.” Not sure where to put his hands, or what to do, his hand eventually finds its way into Louis’ hair, further messing up his quiff. Louis looks up at him from under his lashes, eyes sparkling with mischief.

“This okay, love?” Louis asks, moving his hands steadily up and down Nick’s thighs, hovering over the waistband of his pants. He looks like several of Nick’s wildest fantasies come true.

Nick finds himself nodding before he can even think twice about it. “Yeah,” he croaks out, covering one of Louis’ hands with his own and breathes a little easier as Louis entangles their fingers, anchoring him. “Okay.”

Louis smile widens. It’s all the warning Nick has before his pants are pulled down and Louis swallows him down. The world shrinks, reduced to nothing but the two of them; the cold wood of the door against his back and Louis’ fingers intertwined with his. It doesn’t take long before he comes down Louis throat with his head tilted back against the door, the sound he makes echoing in the air around them.

Louis stumbles to his feet and crashes into Nick, hissing as he tries to shake blood back into his legs. “Shit, ow.”

Feeling more than a little floaty Nick can only watch him from under hooded eyes as Louis tucks him back in, leaving his trousers unzipped. He allows himself to be manhandled for a bit, Louis’ hands gripping his hips tightly as he moves Nick to the side and twists the keys around before pocketing them.

Nick watches him, leaning boneless against the door. “Still wanna get my mouth on you.” He reminds Louis, slurring slightly. Louis stills, jaw tight as he swallows, and when he looks over at Nick his eyes look completely blown. Encouraged, Nick reaches out for him, one hand around Louis’ neck and the other cupping him through his pants.

Louis comes willingly when Nick tugs him closer, crashing back into his side. Nick curls his fingers, revelling in the way Louis moves into his touch, hips stuttering. “Nick, I’m gonna come if you keep doing that.” Louis says, a strained note to his voice.

“’s he point isn’t it.” Nick drawls out, but takes pity on him and loosens his grip. Still feeling like a part of him is in a melted puddle on the ground, head spinning both from adrenaline and champagne he finally has the courage to ask the question he has been wanting to ask for weeks. “Can I eat you out?” He has been thinking about it, is the thing, surprising himself with how badly he wants it. It’s not something he has always been comfortable with, has often felt like it’s too intimate but lately it’s all he can think about it. “Are you okay with that? Would it make you come?”

“Fuck. Yes.” Louis gasps. The breathy quality of his voice and the way he’s still moving his hips into Nick’s palm is incentive enough for Nick to push away from the door. They stumble through the door and down the hallway towards the bedroom, kissing messily.

Once inside the bedroom Louis disappears into the bathroom, leaving Nick to try and get the covers off the bed and turn the bedside lamps on. He gets undressed to the sound of running water, leaving his clothes in a pile on the armchair in the corner.

He sits down on the edge of the bed, playing absentmindedly with the chain around his neck before he remembers to take it off. He’s leaving his necklace on the dresser when he can hear the sound of the door opening, and when he turns around he comes face to face with Louis wearing nothing but tight, black boxer briefs.

“Hey,” Louis says, leaning back against the door jamb and cocking his hip in a way that has Nick’s eyes immediately drawn to the curve of his waist and the flex of muscles in his thigh.

For a moment Nick can’t speak, too busy drinking in the sight of him, but then he finds his voice. “Come here,” he says, and sits back down as Louis starts walking towards him, hips swaying. 

Louis’ eyes are dark, not leaving Nick’s for a second as he comes to a stop in front of him.

Nick reaches out for him without thinking, pleased when Louis comes willingly and moves to straddle Nick where he sits. He’s a pleasant weight on top of Nick’s thighs, and he can feel his dick stir in interest when Louis shuffles to get comfortable. Louis is still hard, tenting his boxers and Nick wants to make him shake apart so badly he can barely form words. He lets his hand slide slowly down Louis’ torso and doesn’t stop until his palm is resting against Louis’ erection, barely touching but enough to have Louis suck in a breath through his teeth, hand tightening its grip on Nick’s shoulder.

“I believe, ah,” Louis says, arching into Nick’s touch, eyebrows knitted together in frustration when Nick pulls his hand back, keeping the touch light and barely there. “I believe I was promised an orgasm. Nick, fuck, touch me. Please.”

Nick takes pity on him then, letting his thumb brush against the underside of Louis’ dick through his boxers. The reaction he gets is instant; Louis chokes on air, curling in on himself, forehead dropping to Nick’s shoulder as he shudders.

“You bloody tease.” Louis groans, shuddering as Nick does it again, fingers trailing the curve of Louis’ dick through his pants.

Nick hums in response, taking the opportunity to leave a trail of kisses along the curve of Louis’ throat, feeling his heartbeat against his lips. Ignoring Louis’ sound of protest he moves his hand away from Louis’ dick, running both hands up Louis’ back and down again. He’s no longer in a rush, feeling warm and floaty with Louis’ weight grounding him to the bed. Arousal is bubbling in his veins, but more a background noise at this point with his fingertips still tingling from his earlier orgasm.

“How do you want it, love?” He says, smiling as Louis pulls back to capture his lips in a kiss, pouring his obvious frustration with Nick’s teasing into every swipe of tongue.

“Now.” Louis says between kisses. “I don’t care, just get to it.”

“Sure you’re ready for it?” Nick smirks, letting his hands slip lower, under the waistband of Louis’ pants to push them down to his thighs. “Better get these off, hmm?”

Louis is quick to his feet, stepping out of his pants and leaving them in a heap on the floor. He settles back on Nick’s lap, hissing as his dick rubs against Nick’s. Flexing his palm against Louis’ bum Nick reaches out to his left to pull one of his many pillows closer. “On your stomach.” He says, catching Louis’ mouth in a quick kiss before he moves away.

Louis does as he’s told and the sight of him on display makes Nick’s breath catch in his throat. He follows suit, moving to straddle Louis’ thighs and then leans forward to speak closely to Louis’ ear. “I’ve been thinking about this.” He admits quietly, “Wanted to do this ages ago.”

“Since last year, then? Why am I still waiting?” Louis replies. It’s a bad come back and he’s obviously aware and trying not to smile, Nick can tell, but snorts out a laugh when Nick digs his fingers into his side.

“Patience.” Nick drawls, but he can’t keep from grinning either. He takes his time, kissing down the curve of Louis’ spine, across the plane of his back. It’s exciting, searching for the spots that make Louis shiver and sigh. There’s a spot below his ribcage, right before the dip of his waist that makes Nick pause, sucking a mark into the skin and rejoicing in the sound Louis makes and the way he moves his hips against the pillow. “You look so good,” Nick tells him, biting down gently on the upper curve of Louis’ bum and folding his hands around his hips to hold him steady.

He keeps going, kissing lower until he’s finally able to drag his tongue around Louis’ opening, revelling in the way he twitches and moans. He flattens his tongue over Louis’ rim, following it up with more broad swipes, licking over the puckered flesh until Louis’ is pushing back against his tongue, moaning brokenly into the crook of his arm. Nick reaches out to place a hand behind Louis’ knee, pushing his leg up the mattress to give him better access. Enjoying the way it frees his to curl around the dip of Louis’ waist, he keeps working Louis over with his tongue, hand stroking up and down his spine, digging his nails into his waist and feeling him shiver.

“Your mouth, I swear-” Louis begins, the last of his words lost in a garbled mess as Nick pokes the tip of his tongue inside him. He’s hard too, dick straining against the covers. It’s hot, is the thing, watching and hearing Louis’ shake apart. Hot enough to know he’s going to be wanking over this for years, probably. Pulling back he trails kisses across both cheeks, watching Louis’ arms flex as he digs his fingers into the covers, back heaving as he breathes.

“What about my mouth?” He asks, grinning. His voice is a little hoarse and when he licks his lips they’re a bit numb. He’s not done yet, though, far from it. He bites down gently again, digging his teeth into Louis’ left bum cheek when his answer takes too long.

Louis gasps, twisting his head to the side and panting against the sheets. His hair is damp with sweat at his temples. “So good, Nick. God.”

“I’m not finished with you yet. Lift up.” Nick replies, tugging at Louis’ hip and when Louis pushes up on trembling arms he slips a hand underneath him, wrapping his fingers around his dick.

Louis collapses on the bed again, groaning. “Yes. Fuck. Come on.”

Nick doesn’t reply, too busy getting his mouth back on Louis’ rim and flattening his tongue over it before pushing back inside. Louis is pushing into his hand, breathing out choppy moans with every thrust. He’s so hot against Nick’s tongue, trembling against him and Nick could get addicted to this. The taste and the sound of him enough to have Nick grinding against the bed, dick straining against the material of his pants.

“Nick, fuck,” Louis groans. He reaches out for Nick, fumbling over the sheets before he wraps it around Nick’s wrist, holding on tightly. “I’m gonna-“

He doesn’t finish the sentence before he’s crying out, back arching and flexing as he coats Nick’s hand in come. Nick keeps going, licking in long swipes around Louis opening until he’s squirming to get away; over sensitive and whimpering.

He sits back on his haunches, closing his come slick hand around his own aching dick. Louis is watching him from the corner of his eye where he lays, spent. “You should come on me.” he mumbles. His hair's a mess and his cheeks are flushed. He’s never looked better and Nick’s dick twitches at the sight of him, orgasm curling hotly in his belly. He drops to hold his weight on one elbow, hovering over Louis as Louis turns over on his back and wraps his hand around Nick’s bicep, anchoring him. 

“Come on, Nick, I want it.” He continues, stretching out on the mattress and trailing his fingers through the mess on his stomach and that’s it, Nick comes so hard he sees stars.

If how you spend New Year’s Eve is any indication of what’s to come, he has a good feeling about the new year.

 

 

 

 

“Don’t freak out,” Douglas says as Nick slips back into their booth at the back of the pub, and Nick immediately does exactly that. His head whips around in direction of the flat screen in the corner so quickly his neck twinges uncomfortably. The screen is showing players walking aimlessly around on the field, clearly waiting for the match to pick back up, before the producer switches to showing the huddle of medical staff surrounding a player on the ground. There’s a stretcher behind them, a few players taking the opportunity to drink from the bottles they’ve brought with them. Nick’s heart stutters painfully in his chest even before he can make out the number 28 on the jersey of the injured player.

Louis is hurt.

“He was tackled.” Ian explains, turning to look at Nick as the incident is replayed on screen.

Nick watches the other player tackle Louis who’s in possession of the ball, swallowing hard against the nausea swirling in his stomach. Louis on screen tumbles to the ground in a blur of red and white, clutching his left ankle before he’s even stopped moving.

“It doesn’t have to be bad.” Douglas reminds him gently, but Nick can’t look away from the scene unfolding on the TV. The medics are transferring Louis onto the stretcher and that’s… Don’t they usually use that cooling spray thingy and leave it like that?

Louis’ foot is wrapped, piled up high and he’s shielding his face from view with his arm as they carry him off the pitch. Nick is reaching for his phone before he can think twice about it, hands shaking slightly as he pulls up Louis’ number.

“He won’t answer, Grim.” Aimee points out and Nick _knows_ that, but he has to do _something_. He gets to his feet and walks over to a more secluded corner of the pub as he waits. Thankfully the pub’s clientele is not really of the football watching variety and no one is really paying any attention to what’s going on. His call goes to voicemail eventually and Nick has to remind himself to breathe at the sound of Louis’ short and to-the-point message before the beep.

“Lou,” He breathes out, pinching the bridge of his nose hard. “Shit, babe, I just saw.” Suddenly at a complete loss of words he falters, running a hand through his hair in frustration as he struggles to find the words. “Fuck, I’m sorry. Call me later if you get the chance? I’m-“ I’m worried sick, he doesn’t say. “Call me when you can, yeah?”

Once back at the table he drains his glass in one go, the wine suddenly too sour tasting and making him wince.

“He’s not back in play, they subbed in Flamini.” Douglas explains. “I’m sure he’ll be okay though, mate.”

“Right.” Nick nods jerkily, reaching for his coat and shoving his phone into his pocket. “I’m gonna go, uhm. Yeah.”

“Hold up,” Aimee interrupts, getting to her feet quickly and wrapping her arms around him. Nick allows himself a moment of comfort, exhaling a shuddery breath into her hair. “Go be with your boy,” she murmurs into his hair, arms tightening around his waist before they let go. The others offering their own words of support as they say their goodbyes, before he turns to walk quickly out the door.

Outside the pub he turns left, grateful it’s only a few minutes’ walk from his flat. He still feels disjointed, like there’s a layer of plastic film between him and the world. Once he’s home he can do little but walk aimlessly around the flat until Pig nearly trips him in her attempts to gain his attention. Feeling guilty, he takes her for a walk, hand clutched around his phone the whole time.

Two hours later he is slowly but surely losing his mind, has already called Louis twice more with no answer, and has run out of bad daytime TV to pretend to watch while he frets. When his phone lights up, Louis’ name on the screen, he answers within seconds.

“Lou.” He doesn’t bother with greetings, heart beating so hard it’s threatening to pound a hole in his chest.

“Hey,” Louis sounds tired, words a little drawled out as he speaks. “Sorry I didn’t call sooner.”

“Why are you apologising?“ Nick objects, nearly stumbling over the words in his rush to get them out. “Are you okay? Where are you?”

“Had to get my ankle x-rayed. I’m on my way home now,” Louis explains. Nick had guessed as much, given how long it has taken Louis to get in touch, but hearing it still makes his chest tighten uncomfortably. 

“The car picked me up a few minutes ago but the traffic is pretty bad.”

“Right. That’s… I really want to see you.”

Louis takes a moment to answer, and when he does he sounds a bit hesitant. “You could come over? I’m probably not gonna be much fun, but I could use the company and-“

“Yes.” Nick agrees before Louis can even finish, already off the sofa and jogging down the hallway to find his jacket and car keys. “Of course. I’ll be there in a few.”

They hang up and Nick is out the door within minutes. He makes it to Hampstead in record time, arriving before Louis and tapping a restless beat against the steering wheel as he waits. A few minutes later a black Range Rover parks in front of him on the road, and Nick is out of his car before the driver have even walked around the vehicle. He waits impatiently as the driver opens the door to let Louis out, quelling the urge to shove the man aside and do it himself.

The crutches come first and the mere sight of them make Nick’s throat hurt.

“I’m okay, thanks.” Louis tells the driver when he offers him a hand, awkwardly getting out of the car without letting his bandaged foot touch the ground. “Hi.” He greets Nick, attempting a smile that doesn’t quite reach his eyes.

“Hey.” Nick replies, accepting Louis’ bag from the driver before he can attempt to shoulder it himself. Knowing Louis he’d probably try and carry it himself if he got the chance. He wraps a hand around the shoulder strap; doesn’t quite know where to put his hands, or if he’s allowed to touch.

Louis is dressed in his Arsenal tracksuit, a maroon beanie pulled down low and covering his hair. He looks a little pale, slowly making his way up the drive on his crutches. Nick has rarely felt more useless, hovering behind him like a proper mother hen as they make their way into the house.

Once inside Louis heads for the kitchen, and Nick finds himself unable to move once he’s dropped Louis’ bag to the floor, still feeling a bit shaky because Louis looks okay, he does, but he got hurt. Nick’s a bit shit with sick people, was never the one to bring home injured birds or the likes, and is that actually a thing kids do? It might be another one of those Hollywood clichés now that he thinks of it.

“Nick?”

He looks up to find Louis in the hallway between the hall and the kitchen, watching Nick with a soft look on his face.

“Come here,” Louis tells him quietly, leaning one of his crutches against the wall to reach for Nick 

He wobbles a little, and Nick moves without a second thought. He doesn’t throw himself at Louis but it’s a near thing. He hugs him tightly and buries his nose against Louis’ temple; breathing him in. Louis huffs out a breath, winding his arm around Nick’s waist; leaning a little more of his weight against him than usual.

“You got hurt.” Nick says, squeezing tighter and shit, his eyes are burning and he’s being completely ridiculous he knows it but he can’t quite rid himself of that dreadful feeling in the pit of his stomach.

“I’m okay. ‘s only a sprain.” Louis mumbles into his shoulder. “Bloody wanker came at me and my cleats got stuck. Had to get a scan to make sure nothing was broken or torn, it’s why it took so long. I’m gonna be out for at least two weeks though.”

Nick cringes, running a comforting hand up Louis’ back and wrapping it lightly around the back of his neck. Two weeks is not a long time, not really, but he can tell from Louis’ voice that it really bothers him. “I’m sorry.” He places a kiss against his temple before he pulls back slightly to catch Louis’ gaze. “Does it hurt?”

Louis pulls a face. “A bit,” he admits. He looks exhausted, shuffling awkwardly on one foot. “Have to keep it elevated for now, just need to get an ice pack from the freezer-“

“I’ll get it,” Nick cuts in, making sure Louis has a firm hold on his crutches before he lets go. “You go sit down.”

He watches Louis as he hobbles in direction of the living room, forcing himself to take a long, deep breath, fervently wishing he was better at the whole comfort thing and feeling completely out of his depth.

Nick walks into Louis’ spacious kitchen, switching on the light above the hob before heading over to the freezer in search of the aforementioned ice pack. Successful, he walks into the living room to find Louis busy trying to get himself into a comfortable position on the sofa.

Together they manage to get Louis situated on the chaise lounge, making sure his bandaged foot is elevated. Nick sits down next to his legs, fighting the need to touch, still not entirely sure what he wants and what’s allowed. In the end he decides ‘fuck it’, and bends down to press a kiss to Louis’ foot. The gauze smells heavily of antiseptic and he only just brushes his lips against it before placing the ice pack carefully on top. When he looks back up at Louis the other has an amused look on his face, eyebrow raised, and Nick unsuccessfully fights the blush he can tell is creeping up his neck.

“Shut up,” he mumbles, pinching Louis’ knee through his joggers.

“I didn’t say anything,” Louis smirks. “But with all the attention my foot is getting there are other parts of me that are feeling a little left out.”

Nick can’t help the way his eyes stray, groaning wearily when Louis snorts out a laugh.

“No, you dirty old man, that’s not the body part I was talking about.”

“I’m not old” Nick objects, but still moves close so that he’s next to Louis’ hip. He rests a hand on the other side of Louis, pleased when a hand wraps around his wrist, thumb rubbing over his pulse point.

“Kiss me?” Louis smiles, making an attempt to bat his lashes that turns out rather half-arsed.

Nick takes a moment to study him; cataloguing the dark circles underneath his eyes and the dishevelled state of his hair now that he’s pulled his beanie off. He looks exhausted and still too pale and Nick has to fight the urge to wrap him in bubble wrap and bury him under a pile of blankets.

“You gave me a proper scare.” He admits softly, brushing Louis’ fringe out of his eyes and cupping his jaw. Louis opens his mouth to say something but Nick kisses him then, has to; desperately wants to feel Louis’ lips against his own. It starts off soft and careful, but deepens briefly, a hint of tongue before Nick pulls back. “Better?”

“Lots.” Louis smiles, exhaling a long, heavy breath as Nick moves to sit next to him, pulling Louis closer with an arm around his shoulders and placing a kiss on top of his head. “I need to call my mum.” Louis sighs, reaching for Nick’s hand and where it rests against his chest, playing with his fingers. “I texted her in the car but she’ll want to hear from me.”

“Do you have your phone?”

“It’s in my bag,” Louis says, playing absentmindedly with the ring on Nick’s middle finger. “There are painkillers in there as well.”

“I’ll get it.” Nick offers. “Tea?”

“In a minute,” Louis agrees quietly, intertwining their fingers and burrowing closer into Nick’s side.

Nick relaxes against him, feeling more centred than he has all afternoon. He allows both of them a few minutes before he gets back up, Louis having admitted that he should probably take those painkillers soon. He puts the kettle on before venturing out into the hall to find Louis’ phone and pills. It’s easy, both of them tucked into the same side pocket of his bag. He returns to the living room to hand Louis his phone, and then returns to the kitchen to give him some privacy during his phone call. He pokes around the kitchen, finding the tea bags easily enough and sending a quick text to Aimee as he waits for the kettle to boil, asking her to take Pig back to her place for the night. He prepares their tea, a splash of milk in both mugs, and carries them into the living room.

“I’m not though.” Louis is saying into the phone when he enters, walking slowly to keep from spilling. “Mum, please. I’m good, yeah? I told you, Nick’s here. I’ll call you tomorrow, let you know what the doctor said.”

Nick returns to his seat next to Louis, close enough for their thighs to touch. He likes how Louis’ sofa is so huge they can both fit on the chaise lounge. He keeps a hold of both mugs, listening to Louis as he wraps up conversation with his mum.

“All good?” He asks once Louis hangs up and drops his phone onto the cushions, handing him his steaming mug.

“Yeah. My mum says hi.” Louis shifts closer, until there’s hardly any space left between them, sighing contentedly into his tea.

Nick puts the TV on, finding an old episode of Friends. They finish their tea in silence, Nick reaching over to leave the mugs on the table as a second episode starts playing on the screen. Louis is asleep on his shoulder before the first ad break, breathing slow and steady. Nick barely dares to move, feeling like his heart might burst out of his chest with how big it’s growing, not really paying any attention to what’s happening on the show. When the episode is finished and Louis is still sleeping soundly on his shoulder he sneaks his phone out of the pocket of his jeans. Feeling a little creepy he carefully turns the camera on them, and subsequently cringes when the shutter sound causes Louis to snuffle awake.

“Are you taking my picture while I’m sleeping, Nicholas?” he rasps out, stretching lazily and wincing as he accidentally jostles his foot. “Quite stalker-ish, wouldn’t you agree?”

“You’ve been sitting still for at least forty-five minutes,” Nick quips. “I reckoned it must be documented for posterity. And it was of both of us, actually.”

“Let me see,” Louis demands, surprisingly deft fingers liberating him of his phone before Nick has a chance to react. The picture is a little blurry, but Nick can tell immediately that he won’t be deleting it any time soon. Louis looks completely relaxed and surprisingly young; mouth slightly open and nose buried in Nick’s jumper. “Well, that’s not going to do it.” Louis says, handing the phone back to him and carefully moving himself into a slightly more upright position. “Let’s try again.”

Nick falters, his response a little delayed but when he finally finds his voice he can’t hide his surprise “Yeah?”

“Stop smirking and just take the damn selfie, Grimshaw,” Louis grumbles, but there’s a smile on his face and Nick’s relieved to see a little more colour has returned to his cheeks.

Snickering, and promptly letting out a yelp as Louis pinches his hip, he returns to the camera and angles it towards them

“You’re doing it wrong. Give it here.” Louis objects, and Nick doesn’t know how he could possibly be doing a selfie ‘wrong’ but he relents. He hands the phone over and puts his face closer to Louis’, smiling as the shutter sounds. Louis inspects the picture carefully before coming to a verdict. “Better,” he decides, allowing Nick to tilt the screen so that he can see for himself. He’s right, they’re both in focus now, Nick grinning dopily at the camera and Louis looking a little worse for wear and pulling a face.

“You should send me that one.” Louis tells him. “Shit, I need a shower though, my hair looks a mess.”

“You really do, you smell.” Nick agrees, laughing as Louis gasps in mock outrage.

“Vicious lies!”

“It’s really not,” Nick grins, unable to stop himself from pressing a kiss to Louis’ temple, grinning at the muttered objections. “It’s okay, I kind of like you anyways.”

“I’m suing you for slander.” Louis quips, and angles his own phone towards their legs; snapping a picture. His bandaged foot makes centre focus, Nick’s feet next to his with the TV and their cups of tea in the corner.

“What are you doing?”

“Twitter. The club will mention me in the match report but I figured I’d say something myself.”

He’s quiet for a moment then, carefully tapping away on his phone, before dropping it on the armrest. “I’m going to have a shower,” Louis decides, and Nick gets to his feet when he begins to push impatiently at him chanting “go, go, go”.

He doesn’t understand where the sudden burst of energy has come from but can tell from the way Louis isn’t quite looking at him that the tweet was a bigger deal to him than he’s willing to let on. There has been some talk about them since New Years’, nothing major but the pictures got picked up by a few of the gossip rags. Neither of them have felt the need to comment, and when he thinks of it, Louis tweeting that picture is probably the closest to a confirmations of the rumours this far.

“Aren’t you supposed to keep that dry?” He nods to Louis’ foot but reaches out to pull him up when he gestures eagerly in Nick’s direction.

“’s why I have you around innit?” Louis replies, one hand wrapped around Nick’s lower arm as he reaches for the crutches. “To help wrap my banged up foot in bin bags.”

“I’m not very crafty,” Nick admits but follows Louis as he hops out of the living room. The way Louis holds himself has changed dramatically, and Nick is relieved that his impromptu nap seem to have done at least a little difference. Louis comes to a stop at the bottom of the stairs, looking how at the winding staircase.

“Fuck.”

Nick can’t help himself. He completely loses it; dissolving into honking, semi-hysterical laughter that nearly leaves him in an undignified heap at the bottom of the stairs, a clearly unimpressed Louis watching him struggle to pull himself together.

“So supportive.” He drawls out, and the affronted look on his face is enough to send Nick into another fit of laughter.

“If you want supportive I could probably carry-“

“Oh, fuck off, I’ve been carried around enough today.” Louis cuts him off, poking him in the shin with his crutch. “I’ll use the guest bath. Be a dear, Nicholas, and make up for your glaring lack of tact by bringing me my bloody shampoo and some clothes.”

Nick walks up the stairs, feeling a little winded from laughing and has to put in serious effort not to stop and catch his breath at the top. He makes his way into the bedroom, unsurprised by the sight of Louis’ unmade bed and the clothes strewn about the room.

He cleans out the shelf inside Louis’ huge shower, unsure which bottles he’d prefer and reminding himself to tease Louis’ about his love of shower products at some point within the not too distant future. When he returns downstairs he finds Louis in the guest bath after a moment’s confusion; the room is hidden at the end of a corridor behind the kitchen that Nick has never payed attention to before. His own flat is definitely not small but it’s tiny compared to Louis’ sprawling house and Nick secretly loves the amount of space. It’s got high ceilings and lovely, dark wooden floors, is clearly made for family and socializing and too big for one person. Definitely has more than enough space enough for two.

Louis has successfully sourced a huge bin bag and a roll of packing tape and is in the midst of pulling down his joggers with one hand whilst putting all his weight on one crutch. Nick pauses in the door, leaning against the doorframe and managing a whistle that has Louis looking simultaneously exasperated and pleased.

“I might not be very crafty but _this_ I can do.” Nick says, smile widening at Louis’ eye roll as he steps up to help him. He steps a little closer than necessary, pushing his hands under the waistband and rewarding himself with a handful of Louis’ bum after he has pushed the sweatpants down to his thighs. It’s a nice bum, he thinks, nosing at Louis’ hairline. He smells like hair products and sweat and something that’s just him and Nick thinks he might wrap himself in that scent if he could. Roll around in it the way Pig does when she finds a particularly sandy spot in the park.

“Nick.” Louis warns him quietly, but the objection is ruined by the small shudder that runs through him as Nick tightens his grip.

“Hmm?” Nick breathes in deeply, brushing his lips across Louis’ cheek.

“We’re not doing this now,” Louis objects breathlessly, but when Nick moves to cover his mouth he kisses back with fervour. Nick hums into the kiss, dick twitching in interest as Louis shudders against him.

Louis is the one to pull back first, eyes a little blown when he looks up at Nick. “Stop distracting me.”

“But distractions are fun,” Nick pouts exaggeratedly, trying to keep from smiling when Louis reaches out to catch his bottom lip between his thumb and index finger, tugging playfully.

In the end they manage to get Louis’ foot covered with the bin bag. It looks ridiculous, there’s too much plastic and they end up using a little more tape than they probably should have. Louis complains about how the tape is pulling on his leg hair, but when Nick jokingly suggests he might want to consider waxing it earns him an elbow to the stomach.

Nick leaves once he’s made sure Louis won’t slip and break his neck trying to get his pants off and make it into the shower - the glare he received when he suggested they get a chair for him was so cold he nearly has frostbite. Him leaving the room is for the best, the two of them getting in that shower together would probably have ended in bloodshed, and Nick is not sure he’s strong enough a man to watch Louis get naked without being allowed to touch.

So that’s how he ends up in the kitchen, a little turned on and a lot hungry; rifling through the fridge and the cupboards in search of anything that could possibly be turned into dinner. He’s successful, and when Louis comes hobbling into the room later on - hair still damp from his shower and curling at his temples – Nick is pouring tinned tomatoes into a pan of sizzling vegetables and chorizo.

“Smells good.” Louis says, coming up next to him and peering around his shoulder and Nick smiles as he feels the press of lips against his shoulder. “Did you go grocery shopping while I was in the shower?” Louis asks, and though Nick can tell he’s joking he still sounds a little confused.

“I didn’t.”

“That was all in there?” Louis nods in direction of the pantry, humour evident in his voice.

Okay, what the fuck? Nick interrupts his stirring to level Louis with a look. “Yes?”

“Huh.” Louis says. He must tell Nick is silently expecting an explanation because he shrugs, the gesture a little awkward given both his hands are wrapped around his crutches. “I order my groceries online, must have scheduled them for when my cleaner was here earlier.”

“You know, I’ve tried really hard not to buy into any footballer clichés-“ Nick drawls, chuckling when it earns him an elbow to the ribs.

Louis scoffs, but it’s obvious he’s trying hard not to laugh. “Need a sous chef?”

“It’s okay, it’s nearly finished. You can go and sit down,” Nick suggests, reaching for the oregano he had found earlier. “Living room? Figured we can have eat in there tonight. Maybe watch a film or something?”

Louis doesn’t put up a fight much to Nick’s surprise, only grumbles a little about having spent too much time sitting down already. Once he has disappeared into the living room Nick spends a few minutes finishing the sauce and dumping it into the waiting pot of pasta. He has to make two turns into the living room, but eventually he sits down next to Louis with his own bowl in hand.

Louis has brought up Netflix, has some action movie ready, and he only responds to Nick’s half-hearted protests with a theatrical ‘but I’m injured’. They both dig into their food, finishing quickly and in a repeat of that afternoon, Louis is asleep within minutes once they finish their meal; exhaling soft puffs of air against Nick’s shoulder. He’s been silent about his ankle, not saying much about the sprain but Nick has caught him wincing more than once and assumes his tired state is due to a taxing day.

Nick alternates between watching the movie and checking his phone. His friends have texted to check up on him and Louis, and he is so thankful for all of them, sending out a text reassuring them and adding rows of emojis at the end. He had forgotten all about Louis’ earlier tweet and it isn’t until he opens up the Twitter app that he remembers. Something warm grow in his chest when he reads the caption,

_louis_tommo: feelin better already. back soon I hope !!_

Louis hasn’t tagged him, but there are enough people making the connection and Nick spends a few minutes in his mentions, finding mostly good things. He nearly drifts off himself after that, barely paying attention to the movie. He wakes up to the credits, brushing a thumb over Louis’ cheekbone before he moves to gently squeeze his shoulder.

“Lou?”

Louis merely mumbles something, burrowing closer and Nick can barely breathe for a moment, so gone for him it hurts. “Louis,” he repeats, a little louder. “Love, let’s get you to bed, yeah? You’ll be more comfortable there.”

“I’m comfortable now.” Louis grumbles into Nick’s shoulder and Nick shouldn’t be this endeared by his boyfriend sounding like a whiny five-year old but, sue him, it’s adorable.

“Come on, love, up and at ‘em.” Nick nudges him as he untangles himself and moves to stand.

“No.” Louis frowns, bottom lip jutting out slightly as he squints up at Nick. “I’m injured, Nicholas, you can’t make me.”

“Well, I’d offer you a piggyback-“ Nick starts, chuckling when Louis’ eyes snap open at the suggestion, gesturing for Nick to turn around. “Thought you didn’t want to be carried.” Nick points out, but turns his back to Louis and waits as Louis hoists himself up with an arm around Nick’s waist. The feeling of Louis’ strong thighs squeezing his hips when he jumps up has him faltering for a moment but his hands move automatically to clutch at the fold of Louis’ knees.

“Giddy up.” Louis crows into his ear, butchering his attempt at an American accent quite beautifully.

“That was awful, don’t ever get into acting.” Nick says, laughing when Louis bites his neck playfully in retaliation. He’s not that heavy, not really, but it’s enough for Nick to realize he might want to increase his own hours in the gym, and once he’s gotten them up the stairs he’s definitely more than a little winded.

He deposits Louis on the bed before collapsing next to him, arms thrown over his head. Louis snickers, poking him in the ribs and laughing out loud when Nick swats at his hand. “Be nice.”

He opens his eyes to catch Louis tugging his jumper off before moving on to his joggers. Once he’s down to a loose fitting white vest and pants Nick sits back up. He kind of wants to reach out and touch, and possibly not stop until Louis is naked and panting underneath him, knows it’s not happening and curls his fingers into his palms instead. “I’ll get you your crutches before I leave.”

“You could stay?” Louis suggests, briefly looking up at Nick. He’s playing with the hem of his vest, pinching the fabric between index finger and thumb. “I mean, tomorrow’s Sunday, right? You don’t have work and I have an appointment with the club’s doctor in the afternoon but-“

“Okay.” Nick cuts him off, trying not to let it show how relieved he is at the suggestion. There’s a small part of him that doesn’t want to leave Louis alone, who can still replay the images of him tumbling to the ground in perfect clarity. It’s an overreaction, he knows, but it doesn’t stop the feeling of unease. They haven’t done this before, he realizes, has never shared a bed without the promise of imminent orgasms. “Yes.”

“Yeah?”

“I’d like that very much.” Nick assures him, and it’s a challenge then to not immediately throw the duvet over both of them and cling tight. But he walks back downstairs to make sure the door is locked, and to turn off the lights. With Louis’ crutches in hand he makes a detour into the kitchen to fill a glass of water before he walks back up the stairs.

He finds Louis in the bathroom brushing his teeth. He makes a garbled attempt at talking and combined with some enthusiastic waving it’s enough for Nick to find a couple of new toothbrushes under the sink. He opts for a purple one and they finish up side by side. Louis gets himself into bed as Nick undresses and uses the loo. Leaving his clothes thrown over a chair in Louis’ walk in closet, he steps back inside the bedroom in nothing but his pants. Following Louis’ instructions he finds a couple of spare pillows to prop Louis’ foot up. Getting into bed with Louis this way feels horribly domestic and so, so lovely. Louis is on his back, arm over his head and head tilted to the side, towards Nick.

“Hi.” Nick says, nearly whispering. He pulls up the duvet, stretching his legs out. The dark blue sheets feel crisp against his skin, the scent of Louis’ laundry detergent pleasantly familiar.

“Hi.” Louis echoes, reaching out to brush his fingers carefully up Nick’s arm. “Come here,” he begs quietly, “want to kiss you for a bit.”

Nick edges closer, carefully fitting himself against Louis’ side, one leg slung over his and arm resting on his stomach. He doesn’t stop until they’re close, so close. Louis moves a hand down to touch Nick’s arm, making room for Nick on the pillow.

They kiss then; slow and deep until they’re both nearly asleep, lips barely brushing together. The last thing Nick remembers is sluggishly reaching over Louis to turn off the lights before drifting off.

 

 

 

 

Nick is torn from sleep by a clattering sound, followed by Louis cursing up a storm. He’s blinks confusedly against the brightness of the room but then jolts into an upright position when he remembers the events of the day before.

“What’s going on?” He croaks out, rubbing a hand over his face and finds himself halfway out of bed before he’s even finished talking. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” Louis snaps, jumping around on one leg as he attempts to pick one of his crutches up from where he must have dropped it against the bedside table. “I can’t sleep. I didn’t mean to wake you. I’m going downstairs for a cuppa.”

“I can get it for you.” Nick objects, a quick look at his phone telling him it’s half eight and wow, that’s early for a Sunday.

“No.” Louis sounds angry, jaw tight, and he’s not looking Nick’s way at all as he finally gets a hold of both crutches and makes his way around the bed. “It’s early and you have the day off, go back to sleep.”

“It’s no bother,” Nick says, wishing Louis would slow down and allow him some time to catch up. “I don’t mind-“

“I said no, Nick.” Louis cuts him off, and Nick nearly flinches at the tone of his voice. “I can bloody well manage on my own.”

Nick pulls the duvet up around his waist, not looking as Louis leaves the room, suddenly feeling underdressed when faced with Louis’ temper. Unease curls in his stomach and something’s up but he doesn’t understand what’s happened between the two of the falling asleep curled together in bed, and waking up to whatever that was. He runs a hand through his hair, tampering down the urge to follow Louis and make sure he doesn’t break his neck going down the stairs.

It’s doesn’t feel fair, but mostly it makes him feel a bit like an intruder. He scrolls through twitter without really paying any attention, hoping Louis might come back to bed and they can start the day over from the beginning. He wouldn’t mind having some more sleep or a cuddle. Perhaps they could work out a way to catch up on those orgasms they’d never gotten around to yesterday. Disappointment grows in his chest only to be replaced by indignation. When Louis doesn’t return he gets out of bed. He dresses quickly and walks down the stairs to retrieve his jacket.

He contemplates simply leaving without saying goodbye, a part of him whispering that it would serve Louis right. He never gets that far, finding Louis making his way up the stairs. He has only made it a few steps, and looks up at the sound of Nick walking downstairs.

“I’m-“ He trails off, seeming taken back by the sight of Nick dressed and ready to go. “You’re not leaving are you?”

There’s no holding back the derisive snort, and he folds his arms across his chest as he glares in Louis’ direction. “I kind of feel like I overstayed my welcome.”

He’s not prepared for the way Louis’ face falls, or the disappointed slant of his eyebrows. “Don’t.”

Nick is an easy-going guy. He won’t back down if necessary but he hates fighting, has never been good at it. There are few things he dislikes as much as the shaky feeling of adrenaline that comes with an argument. But he knows when to stand up for himself, is the thing, and there is no way he will let this go without some answers.

“What the fuck, Lou? You can’t… what was that just now?”

“I’m sorry, fuck, please stay.” Louis grimaces, pausing awkwardly on the third step down. He lowers himself to sit on the stairs, foot stretched out in front of him.

Feeling a little of the fight drain out of him Nick walks down to sit next to him.

“I’m sorry,” Louis grimaces, “I’m such a twat. You can leave if you want, of course, just-“

He trails off, pushing a hand through his hair with a frustrated groan. Nick pulls in a deep breath and feels very grown up when he refrains from stomping down the stairs and out the door like a part of him wants to do.

“To be honest I’d prefer it if you told me what brought all this on.” He says instead, realizing how true it is once the words are out.

Louis exhales sharply, jabbing at the carpeted stairs with his crutch. Nick waits, feeling his patience beginning to run low just as Louis speaks up.

“I’m going to miss the derby.” Louis says, with a particularly hard jab with the crutch. “And I knew that, but I guess it just hit me when I woke up? I don’t want to let the fans down and my fucking foot hurt so I couldn’t sleep and… and people were being dicks on twitter about my tweet and I’m so sorry for snapping at you.” Louis says, quietly. “You’ve been so nice and making me feel better and I’m shit, basically.”

Hearing it all laid out Nick can understand the frustration radiating from Louis, mixed with a weariness etched into every line of his face. Apparently finished talking, Louis doesn’t look at him until Nick puts a hand on his knee, squeezing carefully.

“Apology accepted.” He says, watching Louis’ shoulders sag in something that looks a lot like relief. “You’re not letting the fans down.” He continues but Louis doesn’t respond. Barely refraining from pointing out his stubbornness Nick settles for putting an arm around his shoulder, pulling him into a sideways hug. Louis comes willingly, leaning heavily into Nick’s side. “Breakfast?” Nick suggests eventually, feeling Louis nod against his collarbone.

They make their way into the kitchen and Louis opts to jump up to sit on the kitchen island, crutches clattering to the ground.

“You’re in charge of pancakes.” Nick decides, giving Louis a look of warning when he opens his mouth to object. “Not a word. We’re making pancakes and we’re eating them in bed and I don’t care if I have to tie you to the bedpost, you are going to spend the day doing nothing.”

“But-”

Louis’ objection is cut off by a kiss, and Nick leans in close to whisper against his ear. “Might let you do one thing if you play nice.” He admits, noticing how Louis is barely breathing as he listens intently to what Nick’s saying. “Me.”

“Not fair.” Louis breathes, head thrown back as Nick catches the fleshy part of his ear between his teeth. “Bloody hell, Nicholas, the things I want to do to you.”

“Behave and I might let you make a list.” Grinning, Nick steps back to gather what they need from Louis’ cupboards, ignoring Louis’ sounds of protest. He finds a portable speaker over by the coffee machine, letting Years & Years provide them with a soundtrack as they start on breakfast. Louis prepares the batter for the pancakes sitting on top of the kitchen island, surrounded by ingredients and following a recipe on his phone. His leg is stretched out in front of him on the granite counter top and it looks ridiculous and really fucking cute.

Nick approves, but falters a little when Louis twists to turn the gas on and asks for a frying pan, not too happy with having his boyfriend’s private bits so close to open flames. Louis won’t have it though, and carefully sets to work making pancakes for them, bopping his head along to Olly Alexander singing from the speakers.

Nick makes himself a coffee using Louis’ pricey espresso machine, settling down on one of the bar stools to watch Louis work. He’s doing surprisingly well, even if he’s working from a weird angle, and is noticeably pleased with the result. Once they’re finished, Nick finds a tray and piles everything they need on it, including a new cup of coffee for himself and tea for Louis. He carries it all upstairs. Louis follows him in a much slower pace, pausing on the landing to complain about the ‘million fucking steps in this house I swear’ and entering the bedroom slightly winded and disgruntled looking.

They eat pancakes in bed whilst watching episodes of the Blacklist on Louis’ laptop and it’s nice; a lazy Sunday morning. At least until Louis ‘accidently’ smears Nick’s cheek with syrup and a minor scuffle ensues when he tries to retaliate that leaves them tangled together. Nick moves first, slipping a hand down Louis’ pants and wrapping it around his dick, swallowing his choked groan in a kiss. He takes his time, keeping the pace slow, adding a twist of his hand, until Louis is panting, moving his hips to try and increase the friction. Nick kisses him through his orgasm, and then buries his face in Louis’ neck as Louis returns the favour.

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  
> 
>  
> 
> ...I feel the need to say that I wrote about Louis cooking long before he instagrammed his sorry excuse for pancakes earlier this year. I had such faith in you, Tomlinson. and yes, I do write that slowly, bah.
> 
> Come say hi on [tumblr](http://www.camiii.tumblr.com) and maybe reblog [this post](http://camiii.tumblr.com/post/146963207346)?


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  
> 
>  
> 
> Here it is, the final chapter. Thank you so much to everyone who has read, commented, left kudos or favourited! When I started this way back in December I wasn't sure I'd ever finish it, or even post it at all, and all of you guys have made this such a fun experience so thank you <3 
> 
> As always, a huge THANK YOU to [Sheena](http://www.conscious--ramblings.tumblr.com) for britpicking and dealing with all my messed up prepositions and the occasional case of missing/magic Pig (..I'm still lauging). when I first messaged you about this idea we didn't even know each other and I'm so happy I get to call you my friend now <3
> 
> And another THANK YOU to [Alice](http://www.intenselouis.tumblr.com) for all the encouragment and beta work <3
> 
>  
> 
>  

 

 

“This is fucked up.” Louis says the same second his shirt hits Nick square in the face.

Nick pays him no attention, simply folds the t-shirt and puts it on top of the socks and mesh shorts already next to him on the bed. He pats the pile of folded up clothes lovingly, has to rub it in a little bit more. He looks up to find Louis staring at him with a crinkle in his brow and arms folded across his chest. “It’s your turn to shuffle.” Nick reminds him.

“Fuck off.” Louis grumbles, but he’s already reaching out to collect the cards strewn across the mattress.

“There’s still time for you to catch up.” Nick says, “I only won this round because you kept getting red ones.”

“You didn’t win.” Louis objects, shooting Nick a glare from under his fringe. “You keep making up your own rules, Grimshaw, that’s not okay and that’s not how you win.”

“I’m not though,” Nick objects and it’s getting harder and harder to keep from laughing. “It’s perfectly acceptable to put a ‘draw two’ on top of another one.” They’ve been over this three times already but it appears Louis is in no hurry to let the subject drop. Nick should have known better than to suggest the game but he’d found the deck in a kitchen drawer and Louis had been close to climbing the walls, crutches be damned. UNO had seemed like a good way to keep him occupied and it was. Until Nick won two games in a row and Louis’ competitive streak came out in full force. Then Nick went on to win another two out of the last four. They’ve been playing for well over an hour and honestly, Nick is ready to let it go but Louis refuses. “You’re only complaining because you only have your pants left and I’m about to win.”

“Technically they’re your pants.” Louis points out.

Nick had noticed. Louis fills out the red pants he’s stolen from Nick nicely, the fabric riding up a bit on his thighs where he sits with one foot pulled up underneath himself, injured ankle stretched out in front of him. Nick really likes Louis’ thighs, has to fight the desire to reach out and dig his fingers into the soft skin. Strip UNO was a great idea, tremendous even, if a bit distracting. A card hits him in the chest, effectively breaking him out of his musings.

“Focus.” Louis scolds him, dealing the cards with quick, efficient flicks of his wrist.

“Thought you’d use me being distracted in your favour.” Nick points out, picking up the pile of cards he has been dealt.

“I don’t need that kind of handicap.” Louis sniffs, but he’s fighting a smile and Nick doesn’t miss out on the way he keeps shifting where he sits, making sure to keep Nick’s attention on his crotch. Nick loses the next game in less than two minutes. Louis is pleased now that they’re both down to pants only, humming what Nick suspects might be a football chant as Nick lies back on the bed to unzip his jeans and push them down his hips. Lying down puts his head level with Louis’ hip where he sits leaning against the headboard and once he’s discarded his jeans he doesn’t sit back up.

“Looks like we have a tie.”

“Pants, technically.” Nick replies, turning to his side and resting on his elbow. He reaches out to trace the lines of Louis’ rope tattoo with careful fingers before continuing up Louis’ arm to his elbow, his chest, down his abs. Louis watches him in silence, abs jumping under Nick’s touch.

“What are you doing?” Louis asks, hand twitching as if he’s struggling not to reach out and cover Nick’s hand with his own. 

Nick hums in reply, busy dragging his fingers through the trail of fine hair disappearing down the front of Louis’ stolen pants, fingertips sliding underneath the elastic waistband.

“Nick.” Louis sighs, and he probably meant for the words to come out a little scolding, but all the punch behind the wording is lost in the softness of his tone. He’s fattening up a bit in his pants, dick pushing against the red fabric. His hand makes its way to tangle in Nick’s hair, and Nick can’t help but lean into the touch. “We’re playing.”

“Mhm.” Nick agrees, shuffling closer on the bed as he slips his hand into Louis’ pants, finding him hot and thick against his palm. He wraps his hand around him, stroking slowly and revelling in the way Louis twitches and sighs.

“If you’re trying to distract me from kicking your ass again and winning this game, it won’t work.” Louis says, but the gasp he lets out as Nick twists his wrist tells a different story.

“Right,” Nick agrees easily, pushing up to his knees and moving one leg over Louis’ on the bed. He’s still wanking him off, torturously slow, satisfaction heavy on his skin as Louis’ moans softly. Reluctantly letting go of Louis he reaches down to adjust himself, goosebumps breaking out across his skin at Louis’ sound of protest. He allows himself a perfunctory squeeze, biting his lip when it sends sparks all the way down his legs. Louis’ hand wraps around his wrist, and when he looks up at him the playfully expectant curl of his eyebrow make something inside of Nick twist hotly. Returning his focus to getting Louis naked he tugs at the waistband of his pants. “Up.”

“This doesn’t count as me losing.” Louis says, but lifts his hips enough for Nick to pull the pants down. They work together to get them all the way off, in an awkward tangle of flailing limbs that is eventually successful and Nick finds himself back sitting between Louis’ splayed legs, mindful of his injured ankle. Louis is nearly fully hard now and making Nick’s mouth water at the sight. 

He slides his hands up Louis’ thighs, squeezing his hips, enjoying the frustrated crinkle of his brow and the way his jaw goes a bit slack when Nick finally wraps a hand around his dick and licks a broad stripe up the length of his erection. Nick likes sucking dick, has been told on more than one occasion that he’s pretty good at it too, but he’s never enjoyed it more than he does with Louis. It’s a lot, being the one who gets to see Louis like this, be with him like this. He repeats the motion and revels in Louis’ shuddering groan before he swallows him down. He loves the taste and weight of Louis on his tongue, puts effort into taking him further down and ignores the uncomfortable twinge of his gag reflex.

“Fuck.” Louis chokes out, hand hovering in the air before he makes up his mind, getting a firm hold around Nick’s neck, not forceful but still enough for Nick to moan around his dick.

Nick pulls off, desperately trying to remember how to breathe. He’s so hard, pushing against the fabric of his own pants, a damp spot spreading where he’s leaking precome. He removes the arm he has got splayed over Louis’ stomach, pleased when Louis’ hips immediately snap upwards, searching out his touch. Teasing a little Nick takes a moment to trail kisses across Louis’ lower abdomen, nosing along the v of his hips and breathing in the smell of him. Ignoring the impatience radiating off Louis, Nick blows softly over his dick and watches it twitch, precome pooling at the tip. 

He leans in to place a teasing kiss against the head before swallowing him back down. Louis yelps, obviously struggling not to choke Nick but Nick doesn’t want him to. There’s a slightly unmoored feeling in his chest, something a little overwhelming that he doesn’t recognize. He pulls off long enough to get out an “it’s okay”, shocked at the hoarse tone of his voice. Louis stills for a beat, eyes finding Nick’s but he must like what he sees because within seconds he’s back to moving his hips in choppy yet careful swivels, nearly fucking Nick’s mouth and it’s good. Good enough for Nick to push a hand inside his pants and wank himself off roughly. He allows Louis to pick up pace a little bit, covering what he can’t swallow with his fist and wanking himself off with a firm grip. It’s easy to lose himself in it all, all senses focused on nothing but Louis. Louis, Louis, Louis.

“I’m so close.” Louis groans and Nick doesn’t know how much time has passed, only knows that his jaw is getting sore and his lungs are beginning to burn and he’s so, so turned on. “Fuck, Nick. I’m gonna come.” Louis gets out, trying to push Nick away but Nick won’t let him. Louis comes with a shout, going completely boneless against the mattress as Nick struggles to swallow. He keeps sucking, pulling off only when Louis begins to squirm. It’s only then he realizes how close he is himself, so hard it’s beginning to hurt and he can do nothing but rest his forehead against Louis’ hip, hips stuttering as he picks up speed. Louis’ hand leaves Nick’s hair, sliding down to his shoulder, squeezing the tense muscle. “Come on, love,” he murmurs, gently, “’s your turn now, come on.”

It’s another couple of hard, rough strokes and Louis’ hand kneading his shoulder encouragingly before he comes, shuddering through his orgasm, fireworks exploding behind his closed eyelids. He still has his head resting against Louis’ abdomen, sweat is beading at his temples and Louis’ skin is damp against his cheek but he couldn’t care less. Time stretches out as Nick focuses on getting his breath back, Louis’ hands in his hair, on the nape of his neck, stroking his shoulders.

“Come here” Louis says eventually. Nick moves slowly, doesn’t want to open his eyes, feeling too boneless and much too comfortable. Eventually he gets so far he’s covering Louis’ body with his own, offering a mumbled answer to Louis’ half-hearted protest and claim to being ‘crushed’. He can feel Louis place a kiss against his hair, slides his own hand up Louis’ arm to rest it against his cheek. “That was,” Louis trails off and Nick hums in reply. He can feel Louis’ mouth tug into a smile, thumbs the edge of it lazily.

“Hot.” He suggests, kissing Louis’ collarbone, his sternum, everywhere he can reach without lifting his head too much. Louis doesn’t seem to have much more energy, wrapping his arms around Nick’s shoulders in a hug.

“…a solid attempt at distracting me.” Louis continues, triumphantly, and it takes Nick a moment to catch up. When he does he groans out loud.

“No. No more.” He begs, burying his face in Louis’ shoulder and going for his most pleading voice. “Let’s just call it a tie?”

“Tsk, none of that, Nicholas.” Louis tuts, digging his fingers into Nick’s back. “Now, I believe it’s your turn to shuffle. Get to it, I have a game to win.”

Nick is burning that deck of cards at the first opportunity.

 

 

 

 

Louis doesn’t magically recover in time for the derby. It’s Saturday and Arsenal are playing their arch rival Tottenham at White Hart Lane. Louis is still on his crutches, still needs to keep his foot elevated and is still upset about not playing. He hasn’t exactly been silent about his frustration and somehow, in a moment of weakness, Nick ends up accepting Louis’ invitation to come over and watch the match with him.

Honestly if his dad knew, he’d be laughing for days.

It’s windy out, forcing him to burrow further into his scarf as he jogs the steps up to Louis’ front door and rings the bell. Pig is next to him, her leash wrapped tightly around his hand inside the pocket of his coat. She’s sniffing on everything that comes her way, tail wagging in the air. He shivers as he waits, shifting his weight from one foot to the other. When his phone buzzes he contemplates ignoring it but Louis is taking his time. Retrieving his phone from his coat pocket he finds a text from Louis waiting.

_It’s open._

Surprised, Nick tries the door and finds that it is, in fact, unlocked. “What if I had been an axe murderer?” He calls out once inside, pausing long enough to have his excited dog sit down before he steps out of his shoes. He can hear the television somewhere in the distance, and Louis is nowhere to be seen.

Nick walks through the hallway, past the stairs. Pig’s trotting along, looking a bit confused about still being kept on the leash but there’s no way Nick will let her go just yet. Louis might have told him to bring her, but Nick’s not sure Louis took her…exuberance, into consideration.

He steps into the living room to find Louis sacked out on the sectional, foot resting on the cushions they piled together when Nick was here last. He briefly looks over to Nick as he enters the room but quickly returns his attention to the screen. Arsenal is in the lead with thirty minutes left and Nick sends up a silent prayer that it will stay that way.

“Piggy!” Louis exclaims, smiling at the sight of Pig who is pulling on her leash as she tries to get closer to her newly found best friend, tail beating a nearly painful beat against Nick’s shin. “You can let her off the leash.”

“Are you sure?”

Louis scoffs, sitting up straighter. He’s moving a lot easier today than he did last weekend and Nick is pleased to notice the change. “You can’t stop our love, Grimshaw.”

Pig throws herself at Louis the second she’s free, jumping on the sofa without a second thought. Louis makes a muffled noise of protest as she covers his view of the television, but soon breaks out laughing as she covers his face in snuffled kisses. He somehow convinces her to lie down, scratching behind her ear enthusiastically and Nick can’t keep the fond smile off his face at the sight of the two of them. Pig is so obviously enamoured, and well, that makes two out of two Grimshaws that got it bad for Louis Tomlinson.

“Such a gorgeous girl, aren’t you?” Louis coos, letting out a breathless oomph when Pig kicks him in the stomach in her attempts to get even closer.

“Should I give the two of you a moment?” Nick says, sitting down next to them on the sofa and reaching out to tug at Pig’s ear, smiling when she huffs in protest. Louis chuckles at the exchange between them, bringing Pig’s attention back to himself and within seconds he’s being covered in excited doggy kisses.

Nick watches him struggle for a bit before he intervenes, “Pig, down,” he orders, and is more than a little surprised when she obeys straight away. Jumping off the sofa she makes hasty work of examining the room, tail still wagging furiously. Louis is wiping his face with the sleeve of his jumper when Nick looks back at him, still looking a little bit like he’s gone a round with a tornado. Eventually he manages to get it all off, making himself comfortable on the chaise lounge again. Nick waits for a beat, then, “Is my dog the only one who gets kisses?”

The corner of Louis’ mouth tugs into a smile, eyes on the television once more. “Well, I like her the best."

Nick scoffs in feigned annoyance, and leans over to steal a kiss. The cheering of the crowd on screen rising in volume has Louis pulling back much too soon for Nick’s liking, once again having eyes for nothing but the match. Nick leans back against the sofa, idly playing with the charms on his necklace. There’s a free kick taking place, a good opportunity for the home team and he can feel Louis tense up beside him. He can’t help but feel like it must be tiring, being so into it.

He makes himself comfortable next to Louis, stealing a sip of the beer he’s balanced on the armrest and silently marvelling at how it hadn’t ended up on the floor during Pig’s attack. Twenty-four minutes left without additional time. Without a word he pulls out his phone and opens up Instagram. He can hear Pig make her way out of the room, considers following her as she explores but in the end decides to leave her to it. Hopefully Louis doesn’t have any delicate objects lying around.

Louis is fully engrossed in the match, barely seems to remember that Nick is next to him and usually this lack of attention would have Nick in a bit of a huff. It feels like a kind of personal growth to find that he doesn't mind, content with the fact that they’re side by side, legs pressed against the other’s. Plus, it gives him ample time to study Louis without getting teased mercilessly about it.

So he does; taking in the sharp planes and cuts of Louis' profile, the delicate curve of his lips, the stubble covering his jaw. His brow is furrowed slightly, a sign he's not entirely pleased with his team's performance on pitch. He’s magnetic, even when he isn’t paying Nick any attention, and Nick can’t look away. He admires Louis’ focus, the way he can be so in the moment and the energy he puts into anything he takes on. Even if he sometimes feels like he might have to sit on top of Louis to force him to stay still for more than five seconds at a time. He’s beginning to accept that he likes most versions of his boyfriend, even the less flattering ones.

There is a lot of back and forth during the last few minutes, and Nick can barely keep a straight face as Louis mutters out curses under his breath, nervously chewing on his thumb nail and Nick would smack his hand away if he didn’t fear he might get murdered if he intervened right now. In the end Arsenal’s two goals are enough, and they end up winning two to one. Louis lowers the volume once the cameras cut to the studio, turning to face Nick. “You really don’t like football, do you?”

Nick briefly considers lying. He doesn’t actively dislike it, but he has never understood how people get so into. “I like it just fine when you’re playing.” He settles for in the end, giving Louis the smarmiest smile he can pull off. “You know I like you in those shorts. It was all over twitter, after all.”

Louis chuckles as he reaches for his beer bottle, downing the last of it in one sweep.

“What do you like about it?”

“That’s-“ Louis trails off, “That’s like me asking you what you’re favourite thing is about being on the radio, innit?”

“Talking.” Nick replies immediately, a little too quickly, prompting Louis to laugh again. “I like all of it. The talking and the music and having interesting guests on and chatting to our listeners. I like being part of someone’s day, even if it’s the part where they’re stuck in traffic.”

“You do make being stuck in traffic a lot more bearable.” Louis says. “I’m gonna steal your answer and say ‘everything’. Football is-“ he trails off again, fiddling with the string of his joggers. It’s a little surprising, Nick hadn’t expected the question to force this kind of introspection. “I can’t even remember anything from being a kid before I started playing, you know? Most of my earliest memories are related to football. My great grandad bought me a ball, like one of those cheap, rubbish ones, I couldn’t have been older than three. I loved that ball, think I even slept with it in my bed. It’s always been about football for me.”

“That’s a good story. Do you still have it, the ball?”

“Nah,” Louis shrugs, “But there are pictures, at my mum’s house, I’ll show you sometime. And I like winning. It’s the best feeling.”

There’s no way Nick is letting that one slip by, “Is it better than-“

“I know what you’re gonna say and the answer is yes.” Louis cuts him off and pinches his thigh for good measure, ignoring Nick’s laughing yelp of protest. “Winning is better than sex. I said ‘best’, Grimshaw, surely you know the meaning of the word.”

“I was gonna say blowjobs.”

“Well in that case,” Louis chuckles, “I know you’re supposed to be all about the beauty of the sport and the team work and all that.” He continues, tugging at Nick’s arm until Nick shifts closer still, curling towards Louis. “And I love all those things, but I want to do well and I want to be a part of winning the league or a championship. We’ve come so close a few times and it’s time, you know?”

Pig comes trotting into the room, tail still wagging albeit more lazily now. She ambles up to them, sniffing Nick’s foot before disappearing over to the other end of the sofa, lying down on the rug. She seems to be feeling right at home and, well, Nick can relate.

“What about you, Nick Grimshaw? What is your big dream?”

“Radio was it.” Nick admits. “Always wanted to do the Radio 1 Breakfast Show. Still have a moment some mornings when I’m on my way up in the elevator when I can’t believe it’s actually my life.”

“Aw.”

“Shut up,” Nick says, but the words are devoid of any venom. He leans into the kiss Louis initiates, then sinks down further where he sits to rest his head against Louis’ shoulder. Louis reaches for his hand; takes it in both of his and begins sorting through the bracelets around Nick’s wrist. It’s nice, the lack of pressure prompting Nick to keep talking. “For a long time I didn’t dare dream about anything else, really. I only wanted to do really well on the show and for a while it was bloody hard. Kept losing listeners and had the bosses breathing down my neck. No one ever mentions that, do they? That getting your dreams isn’t the end of it? You still have to work hard and even if it’s what you always wanted sometimes it makes you feel like shit.”

“Yes.” Louis agrees quietly, thumb brushing over the pulse point on Nick’s wrist. “It’s still worth it though.“

“It is.” Nick agrees, tangling their fingers together and pulling Louis’ hand close enough to place a kiss to the delicate bone of his wrist. “But since you asked, I’d like to do more television one day. Nothing like the X Factor, mind you, but I’d like to have my own show-“

“Like a talk show? You the next Chatty Man, Nicholas?”

Nick laughs. “No, I’d like to have a show about music, or artists. When you interview people on the radio you never have time to get properly into it, yeah? It’s always blacklisted topics and promo and whatnot. I’d like to be able to sit down with someone and talk about the cool stuff. The song-writing and the creative process and the stories behind the lyrics. And then have the guest sing. Not just one or two tracks either, but a few of them. Some covers too, maybe, a little like the Live Lounge only…more.”

“I’d watch that.” Louis tells him. “Who would your first guest be, if you could choose anyone?”

“Adele, maybe? Or Beyoncé.”

“Good choices, that. Would you get me a backstage pass for your first recording?”

“I would,” Nick replies, shuffling around a bit until he can throw his leg over Louis’ thigh, pleased when Louis sinks down lower, leaving them face to face. “Would you let me hold your cup?”

“Nah,” Louis grins, closing the distance between them and kissing him deeply, hand cupping Nick’s jaw. Nick melts into the kiss, unable to stop the contented sigh he lets out as Louis’ hand finds its way underneath his shirt, sending frissons of want down his spine. He inches closer, pushing his groin against Louis’ hip and revelling in the way they fit together. It’s another minute of mind-melting snogging before Louis pulls back, still keeping Nick’s face close with a hand at his nape. “But I might let you fuck me while I’m wearing my medal.”

Mind immediately flooded with the image of Louis, head thrown back and medal resting against his sweat damp chest, Nick can barely remember how to breathe. “Deal,” he croaks out, “Let’s practice, wanna make sure we’re ready for it when it happens.”

 

 

 

 

Nick wakes up early, too early, once again cursing his own internal clock. His job should come with hazard pay, waking up before seven on a Sunday morning is unacceptable. Louis’ bedroom is still shrouded in darkness, only a little light seeping through the blackout curtains. Pig’s sleeping at the foot of the bed, snoring lightly. Nick stretches languidly, careful not to kick her and shuffles to his side. It’s been two weeks since the derby, even longer since that first night where he stayed over at Louis’ house just for the pleasure of falling asleep next to one another. He should be used to this by now, waking up and coming face to face with Louis. He’s not.

Louis is sleeping too, curled on his side facing Nick, hand stretched out in front of him on the mattress as if he’s been reaching for Nick in his sleep. The need to touch is immediate and overwhelming. Yawning, Nick reaches out for Louis’ hand, carefully making room for himself to move closer. He startles a bit as Louis moves to lie on his stomach, but it creates a space for him and he’s quick to inch closer. He places a kiss on Louis’ sleep warm shoulder and then remains close, lips nearly brushing Louis’ skin. Underneath the covers his hand finds Louis’ waist, stroking up his back. Louis hums quietly in sleep and Nick closes his eyes, trying to keep his own mind from going off on a tangent. He nods off again within minutes.

The next time he wakes up there’s a hand on his elbow, followed by fingers trailing up his arm. They reach his shoulder next, then there’s a hand touching his cheek gently. Nick opens his eyes as Louis brushes a thumb across his cheekbone, finding Louis looking at him with a thoughtful look on his face. “Morning,” Louis says, quietly.

“Hey,” Nick replies. “What’s with the look?”

Louis doesn’t reply, sliding his fingers up into Nick’s hair and urging him closer. They kiss, chaste and closemouthed. Louis stays close when they pull apart, carding through Nick’s hair carefully. He’s looking intently at Nick, eyes roaming his features, and Nick lets him. It seems as if he has a lot on his mind, and it’s still early. Nick’s a bit confused, but he’s comfortable and still a little sleepy so he lets Louis look without comment. He lasts about a minute before he can’t stand it any longer and makes the most ridiculous face he can find energy to pull off, causing Louis to snort out a laugh and bury his face in the pillow.

“Dork.” Louis says, still smiling as Nick wraps an arm around his back to pull him closer still. It’s a little too hot like this but he’s hesitant to push the blankets down, likes the feeling their little cocoon creates. He has never really done intimacy before. Sex and nudity and staying up too late talking in bed, sure. But nothing like this.

“You looked too serious for a Sunday morning.” Nick points out. “What are you thinking about? Strategies for the match? Is that a thing? You’re getting play time today, yeah?”

“No,” Louis says, pushing his fringe out of the way. He’s got a great example of bed head going and here’s what might be a hint of a blush on his cheeks and he’s lovely. So lovely. “Nothing like that. Well I’m probably getting play time but that’ wasn’t what I was thinking about.”

“No?” Nick smiles, trying to tuck a piece of Louis’ fringe behind his ear. “Then what?”

“You.” Louis replies simply, and Nick could swear his heart skips a beat. Oh.

Louis is definitely blushing a bit but he keeps going. “Was thinking that I like this; waking up to your octopus limbs all over me and your dog snoring and you. I like you. A lot.”

“Well do you _like me_ like me, that’s the question?” Nick replies eventually, managing to keep a somewhat straight face despite feeling like his heart might beat straight out of his chest. He’s not joking, not really, knows this is serious. Can feel the weight of the words all over the same way he can feel the duvet.

His question earns him an eye roll before Louis turns serious again. “I do.” He says, hand finding Nick’s under the covers and intertwining their fingers. “I _like you_ like you and you make me happy.”

“I _like you_ like you too.” Nick replies and he’s rarely meant anything more, knows deep down the words don’t quite cover the feeling Louis’ evokes in him. Something soft and warm is growing in his chest, spreading through every cell in his body. It makes him feel golden, like they’ve been drenched in sunlight and all things good. “Now that has been established,” he drawls, feeling like he can barely form words through the smile threatening to split his face in half. “What’s next? When do you have to leave?”

“After lunch, I think.” Louis replies. “You hungry?”

Nick takes a second to consider it. “Not really, why?”

“Let’s go running.”

There is no stopping the guffaw Nick lets out at the suggestions and he yelps as Louis pinches his waist.

“I’m serious. I feel like I haven’t moved properly in ages.”

“You have a match this afternoon, won’t you be doing enough running then?” Nick tries, could easily list a dozen things he’d rather spend his morning doing but Louis has got that look on his face, the one letting Nick know he’s excited about the idea and won’t back down easily. “I don’t have my workout stuff with me anyway.”

“You came here in sneakers,” Louis replies, “And I’m not supposed to do more than a light jog on my own anyway, doctor’s orders, so they’ll do just fine.”

“How do you remember what kind of shoes I was wearing?”

“I notice things.” Louis replies airily, snickering when Nick rolls his eyes. “I like your boots. “ He explains, reaching out to run his fingers through Nick’s dishevelled hair. “I notice when you’re not wearing them.”

It’s too sweet and Nick hates him because there’s no way he can say no now. His mum has jokingly told him his love of shoes would be his downfall on more than one occasion but he’s fairly sure this isn’t what she meant. “That’s cute,” he admits, brushing a quick kiss against Louis’ lips. “But you’re fooling yourself if you think I’m going running with a professional athlete.”

Louis scoffs, fingers digging into Nick’s side underneath the duvet. “You’re in great shape for someone as lazy as you.”

“Such flattery.” Nick deadpans, pulling the duvet up higher, deciding on a final attempt to change Louis’ mind. “I’m comfy.”

“Come on.” Louis wheedles, tugging the duvet down a bit again and happily ignores Nick’s pouting. “We can bring Pig she needs the walk anyway.”

“You’re buying me breakfast after.” Nick tells him. “From the smoothie place.”

“Fine.” Louis says, climbing over Nick and pressing an enthusiastic kiss to his lips. “Now get your cute ass out of bed. Pig! Piggy, wake up, time to go play!”

Nick watches him disappear into the bathroom, appreciating the sway of his hips while silently wondering how they went from comfortable morning cuddles to this. Running, ugh. “Time to get up, Pig dog.” He says, poking her carefully with his foot.

Pig barely looks up but her tail starts wagging lazily against the covers. Nick can relate.

 

 

 

 

 

“Leave me here to die.” Nick gasps out, collapsing onto a bench that must have been placed in that exact spot by the universe as an apology for what he has had to endure this morning. His calves are burning and he’s pretty sure he’s about to suffocate to death. Pig sits down next to his feet, tongue lolling. She’s obviously pleased though and not nearly as exhausted as her owner.

“You’re fine.” Louis points out, wiping his forehead as he stretches, carefully moving his newly healed ankle around. “Now get up, you’ll get cold.”

Nick wants to ignore him on pure principle but he’s already shivering a little. The sky is slowly turning dark grey and there’s no doubt it will start raining soon. Grumbling he gets to his feet, allowing Louis to guide him through a series of light stretches.

“Breakfast, yeah?” Louis says once he deems them finished stretching. He tugs at his beanie, pulling it down lower and holds a hand out for Nick, making Nick’s heart skip a beat at the unconscious gesture. They walk the last bit down to the end of the park hand in hand, turning left in direction of the smoothie place they’ve visited more than once.

“Do you know what you’re getting?” Louis says as they approach the shop. “Wanna order them to go and have a fry up at home? I could go in while you hang out here with Pig.”

“The avocado one.” Nick replies, not failing to notice the face Louis pulls. “None of that, it’s delicious.”

“It’s disgusting, you’re lucky you’re cute.” Louis grimaces, letting go of Nick’s hand with a final squeeze. “I’ll be just a minute.”

Nick leans against the wall, scrolling through his phone while he waits. It’s cold now, and he’s beginning to shiver despite the borrowed thermal shirt and hoodie he’s got on underneath. He’s still amazed by the amount of free stuff Louis has in his wardrobe that doesn’t even fit him. Perhaps Nick could persuade him to strike a deal with Louis Vuitton instead of Puma.

He looks back up just as Louis walks out the door, cups in hand, saying something over his shoulder to a posh looking couple and their toddler. The couple look vaguely familiar, the man has a baby carrier strapped to his chest, and he’s saying something to Louis in heavily accented English that has Louis laughing so hard he nearly loses his hold of the smoothies in his hands. The toddler, a little girl who can’t be more than three years old, is the first one to acknowledge Nick. Or rather, Pig. She lets out a squeal, moving quickly towards them babbling in something that Nick suspects is French, and is audibly displeased when her mother stops her mid-step.

“It’s okay,” Nick is quick to reassure them, a little proud of his dog when he can hear Louis echo his statement. He crouches down next to Pig, keeping a steady grip on her harness as the girl approaches them, hand in hand with her mum.

“Nick, you remember Olivier and Jennifer?” Louis asks him, gesturing to the couple with his smoothie cup before having another sip. His drink of choice is bright pink, in stark contrast to the gloomy weather. It must be a new recipe, they’ve worked their way through most of the drinks on offer in the last couple of weeks and Nick doesn’t recognize that one.

“Of course,” Nick replies and it’s only a tiny lie. Now that Louis has introduced them he does remember Louis’ teammate and his wife from the Christmas dinner.

“This is Jade,” Jennifer tells him, getting down to their level and speaking to her daughter in animated French.

Nick supervises as the toddler make her acquaintance with his dog, both of them equally enchanted with their newly found friend. He finds Louis watching them while he chats with Olivier, a fond look on his face that has something in Nick’s chest twisting warmly. When his knees start to protest he gets back up, still keeping an eye on Pig. She’s tired from their run and is accepting the girls’ cuddles without batting an eyelid but he doesn’t want to risk her accidently knocking Jade over.

“Good to see you.” He tells Olivier, returning the offered handshake before Louis hands him his smoothie. “Thanks, love.”

The words slip out automatically and it’s not until they’re already out there, hanging in the air like a possible disaster, that he realizes he might have screwed up. He waits with baited breath as Louis blinks, obviously noticing the potential for awkwardness, but then he simply wraps an arm around Nick’s waist, pulling him to his side.

“You’re welcome.” Louis replies simply, squeezing his hip and Nick could laugh from the way giddy excitement bubbling in his veins. They can do this, be nothing but themselves in front of others and it can be okay. He can see the Girouds watching their exchange, Olivier crouching down next to his daughter and speaking softly to her. Nick has a taste of his smoothie, pleased with his choice.

“Want a taste?” He offers, lips tugging into a smile when Louis grimaces.

“It looks like slime” Louis wrinkles his nose, planting both hands on Nick’s chest as Nick moves closer in attempt to feed him some of his smoothie. It’s an obvious struggle for him to try and wriggle away without actually letting go of Nick. “You have horrible taste in drinks. I don’t understand how I put up with you.”

“It’s my exceptional conversation skills.” Nick replies sagely, “and my dog.”

“You’re probably right.” Louis admits. “I’m only with you in the hopes of stealing your dog and for her and I to live happily ever after.” He’s trying not to smile, his eyes mere slits, and Nick is so horribly gone for him it takes his breath away. He goes for a kiss, nothing but a quick, close-mouthed peck, company be damned.

Louis is grinning when they break apart, smiling into his smoothie. The moment is efficiently broken as Jennifer speaks up, “How long have you been together?”

Nick falters, happy to let Louis take the lead on this one. He has barely kept count, to be honest, too wrapped up in what they’ve become to really pay attention to days.

“Four months? Five?” Louis replies eventually, looking to Nick for confirmation.

Nick nearly startles at the number. It feels like the last months have flown by, and at the same time it’s like he can barely remember what is was like before, before Louis and before them. He does remember, of course, if he tries hard enough. He never wants to go back to how it was before. He nods in agreement, feeling a little disjointed and leans more heavily into Louis’ side. “Something like it.”

“Only the beginning, let’s hope.” Jennifer laughs, slipping her hand into her husband’s. Their daughter has moved on from cuddles with Pig, busy inspecting a weed growing close to the brick wall. Nick couldn’t agree more. 

They say their goodbyes and him and Louis walk slowly up the street towards Louis’ neighbourhood, sipping their drinks. Pig is trotting along, obviously tired from the run and the cuddles. Nick is pleasantly tired too and so comfortable, hand in hand with his boy. He likes today already. He’s meeting up with Colette later, they have a serious round of shopping planned and he has been looking forward to seeing her for days. Louis is travelling to Southampton in the afternoon for a match, and won’t be back until late this evening.

“I want people to know.” Louis says, suddenly, and it takes Nick a second to catch on to what he’s referring to. When he does he can feel his heart stutter in his chest. Louis is twirling the last dredges of his smoothie around the bottom of this cup, a determined look in his eyes as he looks up at Nick. “I want people to know I’m with you. That we’re together.”

“A lot of people know,” Nick reminds him. He wants it too, that hasn’t changed since New Year’s. If it wouldn’t surely earn him a bad reputation amongst his neighbours he would shout it from the rooftops on the daily. “What do you mean, like, officially? Wanna put in an ad in the paper?”

“I wouldn’t be opposed to hiring a sky writer.” Louis grins, quick and sharp, but then turns serious again. His hand squeezes Nick’s as he continues, ”But really, I don’t care about how, it’s just-“ he trails off, “I want people to know who you are to me. That you’re important. Would that be okay?”

“More than.” Nick replies, tugging on his arm until Louis crashes into his side and kissing his temple. He has to swallow hard against the feeling of his heart suddenly being all the way up in his throat, a bit blown away by the sincerity in Louis’ voice. Squaring his jaw he tugs on Louis’ arm until Louis’ stumbles into his side, kissing his temple. “And likewise, you know. I _like you_ like you, remember? So you’re important to me too.”

Louis’ grin is blinding, and the kiss that follows hot enough to make Nick’s stomach swoop. The grin is gone when Louis pulls back, shuddering dramatically and pretending to gag. “You taste like slime.”

 

 

 

 

On Monday morning Nick is scrolling through Instagram during Tina’s segment when he finds an update from Louis in the middle of his feed. He freezes mid-scroll, the rest of the world disappearing out of focus as he takes in the picture Louis has posted, heart beating a mile a minute. It’s a picture of Nick and Pig, taken in Louis’ living room. Nick’s sitting on the floor, Pig trying to get on his lap and he’s got his face buried in her fur. The only part of his face visible is his cheek and the edges of his smile. It’s a nice picture.

_had the best weekend with my love. her dad is okay too @nickgrimshaw_

Nick presses ‘like’ and leaves a comment that is nothing but a row of coloured hearts. He doesn’t stop smiling for the rest of the show.

 

 

 

 

 

”What on earth is this rubbish?”

Nick looks up from the chicken he’s preparing to find Louis in the doorway, hair still a little damp from his shower. ”What are you on about? It's not rubbish,” he replies, gaping. ”It's Diplo.”

”It sounds like a headache in musical form.” Louis says, and for a moment Nick can only stare at him in disbelief.

”Oh my god, you did not just say that.”

Louis shrugs, nonplussed, but reaches out for Nick's phone and picks it up, pausing the track. ”Unlock, please.” He says, but Nick only keeps staring at him, still expecting him to explain it was all a joke.

”You're not changing music.” He tells Louis eventually, but Louis steps out of reach as he tries to get his phone back and Nick is unamused. ”Very funny, give it back.”

”Nope” Louis replies, popping the p, backing away from Nick as he edges closer. Soon he's backed up against the kitchen counter, trying to hide his hands behind his back but failing miserably.

Nick follows him, trying to wrestle him for the phone and ending up chest to chest. Louis has to tilt his head back to look him in the eyes, and it ignites something in the pit of Nick’s stomach. He usually doesn’t pay that much attention to their height difference, knows Louis would threaten bodily harm on anyone referring to him as short, but right now it’s definitely to his advantage. He pushes his shoulders back to reach his full height, not missing out on the way Louis tracks his movements; squaring his jaw and almost going up on his tip toes.

”We should listen to something else.” Louis says with an air of mock innocence, going as far as batting his lashes at Nick and subsequently scowls when Nick starts laughing.

” _We_ should listen to Diplo, because I'm the one cooking so I get to decide.” Nick tells him, reaching behind Louis to try and free his phone from Louis’ death grip. He only ends up with his fingers trapped between Louis’ lower back and the edge of the counter.

”You should choose something better.” Louis persists, and really, he’ such a brat. ”Or I'll-”

”You'll what?” Nick finishes for him, eyebrow raised and still smiling. He couldn’t keep a straight face if he wanted to, not when Louis is working so hard to be a nuisance and is visibly put out by Nick not really rising to the challenge.

”I won't have sex with you.”

”Ever?”

Louis pretends to mull it over, head tilted to the side. Nick wants to sink his teeth into the side of his neck, leave a mark for everyone to see. ”Tonight.”

”You’re a tough negotiator.”

”Dip-ho-whatever or orgasms, that's the question.” Louis replies airily, right as Nick catches on to how he's trying to hide Nick's phone away in his own back pocket.

”Diplo.” Nick reminds him, hands gripping Louis’ wrists and efficiently stopping any attempt to hide the phone away. Louis stills a bit as Nick tightens his grip, and Nick’s stomach flutters at the way his eyes darken. Huh.

”You're choosing him over me, really?” Louis continues. There’s a breathless quality sneaking into his voice and Nick’s not sure if he’s really noticing the way he’s pushing back against Nick’s front. ”Because I won't change my mind.”

”You won't?” Nick says, leaning in close to whisper directly into Louis’ ear and feels the way Louis stills against him. He places a kiss below his ear, then another one further down his throat. Finally giving into temptation he sucks a mark into the flushed skin and can barely keep from grinning at the quiet sound that escapes Louis. He pulls back to observe his work, pleased with the very visible mark he has left on the otherwise smooth skin of Louis’ neck. “No orgasms at all?”

”No.” Louis gets out, even as his head tilts to the side to make it easier for Nick to continue his ministrations.

Encouraged, Nick trails a row of kisses down the column of Louis’ throat, pausing once he reaches the dip of his collarbones to close his teeth around the protruding bone. He can feel Louis swallow hard, gasping as Nick licks the reddened skin. Louis is squirming in his hold, exhaling choppily against the top of Nick’s head when Nick doesn’t relinquish his hold around his wrists.

”You sure about that?” Nick pulls back to examine his work, half hard at the sight of the bruise beginning to form close to Louis collarbone. Louis is still grinding their hips together in small, jerky movements and when he doesn’t reply Nick tries again, “Lou?”

”Hm?” Louis’ eyes flutter open when Nick says his name. You can barely see the blue of his eyes, pupils completely blown. Louis licks his lips, head tilted backwards and fuck, Nick has never wanted anyone this way. He should be used to it by now, it’s been months, but he’s beginning to learn he might never grow immune to Louis.

“Nick,” Louis says, trying to free himself of Nick’s grip, “Let me-“

“What?” Nick replies, easing his grip around Louis’ wrists. Louis immediately brings a hand up to fist in his hair, crashing their mouths together. Nick lets him, allowing himself a few seconds of toe-curling, frantic kissing before he pulls back. “You were saying?” He grins, twirling his successfully retrieved phone casually in one hand.

It’s hilarious watching Louis slowly come back to himself enough to realize he’s lost his hold of the phone. He’s flushed and the mark Nick made is peaking out at the collar of his jumper. He’s hard too, tenting his shorts. Nick knew that but the visual reminder is making his mouth water.

Louis only stares at him for a moment, eyebrows slowly pulling into a frown. “You suck.” He grumbles, brows furrowing further as Nick hits play again. 

Nick turns around and gets to his tip toes in order to place his phone on the highest possible shelf, way out of Louis’ reach. “I do.” Nick agrees, reaching inside the cupboard for the rice. “You’re the one who won’t, from what I’ve heard.”

He can barely keep the laughter in until Louis has stomped out of the kitchen in a huff. Not until then does he allow himself a slow, steadying exhale, adjusting himself in his jeans and trying to think unsexy thoughts. He won, he shouldn’t be feeling sorry for himself. Eventually he regains enough control of his limbs to finish dinner. Louis sulks on the sofa while the rice cooks, grumbling about ‘mistreatment’ before stomping back inside the kitchen to get plates and cutlery for the table.

They’re halfway through Nick’s stir-fry when Louis finally succumbs. His fork lands on his plate with a clatter, startling Nick who looks up in time to see Louis push his plate away. “Bedroom.” Louis demands, staring Nick down with his hands on his hips. 

“But I’m not tired.” Nick objects, has to pull in a deep breath to try and keep from laughing out loud at the petulant look on Louis’ face. It shouldn’t set the still glowing arousal in the pit of his stomach ablaze, it really shouldn’t, but the prospect of finally getting off is enough for him to overlook Louis’ less than enthusiastic expression. “What other reason could I possible have to go to bed at this hour?”

“Nicholas, I swear to God, if you don’t get naked within the next two minutes-”

“Ultimatums haven’t worked in your favor tonight.” Nick reminds him, but he still gets to his feet, food quickly forgotten. “Maybe-”

Louis cuts him off with a kiss. Forcing himself into Nick’s personal space and burying both hands in Nick’s hair he kisses him until Nick’s dizzy with it and raring to go once again. He still hums Diplo as Louis pushes him down the hallway, laughing as Louis pinches his bum and mumbles vague threats against his back.

 

 

 

 

The call Nick has been waiting for happens while he’s putting his shopping away and the kitchen counter is covered in groceries.

Topman’s Creative Director officially invites him to design a range for them while he’s trying to fit a leek inside his refrigerator, and the adrenaline rush leaves him standing with the door open for too long as he tries to find his words. It’s been in the works for a while, doesn’t come as a huge surprise but it’s still mind-boggling.

He accepts in a heartbeat, groceries completely forgotten as he wanders out into the living room. They chat for a while, setting up loose plans for the initial meetings and his phone pings with an incoming email containing information about the contracts while they’re still talking. When they hang up Nick starts scrolling through his contacts to find Louis’ number. It’s not until his thumb is hovering over ‘call’ that what he’s doing hits him. Louis is the first person he wants to tell his news to.

It makes him pause, staring unblinkingly at his phone. Not that long ago it would have been Aimee, or Fiona, or maybe even his parents. Harry has listened to him talk about how much he’d like to try his hands at designing more than once, and he would be so excited for Nick he would probably get a little weepy. He’s not even sure he has mentioned the prospect of working with Topman for Louis yet, sure they have spoken about his passion for fashion and Louis hasn’t failed to mention his overflowing wardrobe. The fact remains though, there’s no one he would rather share his news with than Louis. He hits ‘call’ and gets to his feet as he waits for the call to connect. Louis picks up on the third ring.

“I’m not late yet.” Louis greets him. Nick can hear people talking in the background and figures Louis is still at Colney. “Honestly, Grimshaw, I’m late once and-“

“I have to tell you something.” Nick blurts out, brushing his fingers along the edge of the mantelpiece.

“Okay?” Louis replies, and it’s not until Nick hears the hesitant note that has crept into his voice that he realizes his own slightly unfortunate wording.

“Nothing bad,” he hastens to add, exhaling loudly before he continues, “Quite the opposite, really. Topman asked me to design a line for them.”

Louis is quiet for a beat and when he speaks up Nick can hear the grin in every syllable. “That’s amazing. Congratulations.”

“Thanks.” He doesn’t realize he’s grinning to until he catches sight of his own reflection in the mirrored wall. Holy crap, he’s going to design stuff. For Topman.

“A line, like, a guest designer thing?”

“Yeah, I’m gonna be a guest designer. Me.” Nick laughs and it’s as if it’s finally catching up with him, making his veins sizzle.

“Wow, Nick, this is great.” Louis says, and Nick can hear the sound of a car door slamming shut. Pig comes trotting down the hallway and twists around his legs, demanding attention. “You had me scared there for a while.”

“No. Sorry, I’m a little-“ He makes a hand gesture before realizing there is no way Louis can see him through the phone. “Sorry. I only got off the phone with them five minutes ago.”

“No need to apologize.” Louis chuckles, and he sounds so pleased when he continues it makes Nick’s chest flutter. “We should celebrate this. Do you want to go out tonight? I know we said I’d come over but-“

“Nah,” Nick finds himself saying, and isn’t that a wild concept. Nick Grimshaw turning down a night out. He wouldn’t be opposed to it later in the week, get all his friends together and have a proper celebration. But for now he can’t think of anything he’d rather do than spend the night on his sofa with Louis and Pig and a bottle of red wine.

Louis shows up an hour later, kissing Nick the second he’s over the threshold. “I am so proud of you.” He says, repeating it again as Nick squirms out of his hold and tries his hardest not to blush. There’s a bottle of champagne in his hand, and he pushes it into Nick’s chest. “Now, let’s get this open and then you can tell me all about it.”

 

 

 

 

 

Arsenal get kicked out of the Champion’s League on a Tuesday. Louis and his teammates are playing Barcelona in London and Nick is busy attending a dinner tied to the Topman job. He can barely focus, silently marvelling at his own, sudden interest in the game but is at least kept up to date by texts from Harry who is watching from his house.

It’s bad, apparently and Nick aches a little for Louis, knows it must be made so much worse by the game being played on Arsenal’s home turf. To make things even worse there is a steady downpour of rain that’s lasted all day, rivers of water running down the street outside the restaurant. Nick still doesn’t understand why the season covers the wrong half of the year.

_Lots of yellow cards_. _This game is rough_. Harry’s text reads, and Nick can barely keep the frown off his face, slipping it back into his pocket. He sips his wine, feigning interest in the conversation around the table. He’s ecstatic about the chance to design, it’s a dream project in every way, but tonight he’d much rather be home. Or at the match, if he’s honest, and isn’t that a mind blowing notion.

_It’s over. 0 – 2._ Harry’s last text says and Nick can feel his heart drop. That’s it, then. A quick glimpse at his watch tells him it’s just past half nine. Louis was supposed to do a studio interview after the game, he knows, and then he said he would come by Nick’s.

Thankfully the dinner wraps up fairly quickly after that. He shoots off a text to Louis from the backseat of his Uber, foot tapping restlessly against the floor. He gets no reply, wasn’t expecting one but it still makes his stomach clench.

He has only been home for a little while, long enough to take Pig out for a quick wee and get out of his dress shirt when the doorbell rings. Louis is waiting when he opens the door, and one look at him is enough to have Nick’s heart sinking further. Louis is in his fancy matchday suit, a little damp from the rain and looking positively murderous. 

“Wasn’t sure you’d come.” He admits as Pig comes trotting down the hall to greet their guest, tail wagging as she twists around Louis’ legs.

“Told you I would, didn’t I.” Louis snaps, dropping his bag to the floor with a thump. “Pig. No.” He continues, pushing her out of the way as he moves to step out of his dress shoes, not even looking at her.

Nick balks at the tone and sucks in a breath, unsettled from seeing a new side to Louis he’s not sure he likes very much. “I’m sorry ‘bout the match.” He says, watching Louis hang his coat, still not really looking in Nick’s direction.

“Can we not talk about that? Bloody hell, I can’t wait to get out of this suit.”

Nick bristles at that. He can handle Louis being upset and snippy but this is not fair. “I’ll leave you to it.” He retorts, putting a comforting hand on Pig’s head, stroking her fur. “Come on, Piggy, let’s go.” He turns back down the hallway, Pig following him closely, clearly picking up on the tension in the air.

“Nick-“ Louis tries, a softer note to his voice now but Nick ignores him. Louis’ sullen mood has proven contagious and he doesn’t feel like talking anymore.

He collapses on the sofa and Pig immediately jumps up to join him, snuggling in close. She’s brilliant. He cuddles her absentmindedly, one ear on whatever Louis is doing. He can hear him disappear down the hall towards Nick’s bedroom and then the click of the door shutting behind him.

A few minutes later he hears Louis come up behind the back of the sofa moments before he comes into view looking down at Nick and Pig. He has changed into a worn-looking hoodie, hands hidden in the sleeves. There’s a crinkle in-between his eyebrows, a downward tilt of his mouth.

“Hey.” Louis says, gripping the backrest of the sofa, shuffling awkwardly. He heaves out a sigh when Nick reaches out to cover his hand with his own, wanting to comfort even when he’s still a little mad. “Sorry.” Louis says, and when Nick does nothing but raise an eyebrow at him he elaborates. “I’m sorry I was a dick.”

“Pig too.” Nick replies quietly, anger fading from the look in Louis’ eyes but not quite ready to let it go just yet.

“Sorry, darling.” Louis murmurs, reaching down to scratch Pig behind an ear, smiling a little when she turns to sniff his fingers.

“There are treats for her in the jar,” Nick tells him. “If I were you I would consider a bribe.”

Louis heads for the kitchen. Pig watches him go, jumping off the sofa at the sound of the jar being opened, nearly kicking Nick in the balls as she goes. Feeling a little abandoned, Nick listens to Louis cooing over her in the kitchen. Knowing both of them and the rapport they have developed Pig is probably cheating her way through the commands Louis is giving her, and Louis is letting her.

“Tea?” Louis calls out over the sound of Pig munching on her treats, and it’s obvious he has already figured out Pig is not the only one in the house that’s prone to accepting bribes.

“Sure.” Nick calls back, turning his attention to the TV and sighing when his glasses become skewed as he tries to get comfortable against the cushions. He can hear Louis rummage around the kitchen, the clank of ceramic against the counter and the fridge door opening and closing. He’s trying to pay attention to the news broadcast when Louis comes walking around the sofa, momentarily obscuring his view.

“Can I?” He gestures vaguely towards Nick and the trace of insecurity behind the question makes the last remaining slivers of anger fade away.

Nick doesn’t speak, but moves his arm out in welcome. Louis comes willingly, settling down between Nick and the back of the sofa. It’s a tight fit, the sofa not really big enough for the two of them but they make do, Louis carefully throwing a leg over Nick’s, lying more on top of him than not. Louis rests his head against Nick’s shoulder and Nick is accosted with the now familiar scent of Louis’ shampoo.

Silence stretches out, only interrupted by the sound of the kettle slowly coming to a boil. Nick doesn’t speak, busy stroking his hand up and down Louis’ back, hoodie soft underneath his palm.

“I’m sorry.” Louis repeats again, speaking quietly against Nick’s chest.

“’s okay.”

“It’s not.” Louis argues, playing with a seam on Nick’s jumper.

“I’m sorry you lost.” Nick says, figuring that’s worth repeating too. “Heard from Harry it was a bit rough.”

Louis huffs out a laugh but there’s no humour to it. “I have the bruises to prove it.”

“What?” Nick blurts out, anger sweeping through him like a wave. He feels Louis shrug against him, and suppresses the urge to pull at his clothes until he can see for himself that Louis is okay.

“I was really fucking shit tonight.” Louis says, at the same time as the kettle switches off in the kitchen. He makes a move to get up but Nick stops him, tightening the hold he has around Louis’ shoulder. The tea can wait.

“Hey now,” he admonishes him quietly, “That’s my boyfriend you’re talking about.”

“Well, your boyfriend did a shit job.” Louis replies, still picking at Nick’s jumper.

Nick is a bit at a loss, struggling with the urge to fix this somehow and knowing he can’t. “I’m sure he did the best he could.” He settles for, nose buried in Louis’ hair. He’s not sure why they’re talking in the third person but decides to go with it for now.

Louis lets out a frustrated breath, hand clenching in Nick’s jumper before he lets go, smoothing the fabric back out with his palm against Nick’s chest. “I had three people on me whenever I was close to the ball-”

Nick hums in affirmation and it’s enough to get Louis to keep talking. Nick lets him, not quite understanding all the technical talk but recognizing the need to vent. When Louis asks about Topman, clearly fed up with talking about his own night and a little less tense where he’s plastered along Nick’s side, Nick tells him. By the time they remember their tea the water has gone cold again.

 

 

 

 

”Your jeans have more holes than fabric.” Louis says, reaching out to poke at Nick’s knee through the, truthfully, quite large hole in his jeans. He hooks his finger into the edge, tugging at the fabric and Nick is quick to reach out and cover Louis’ hand with his, stopping him from making the jeans into a pair of shorts.

“That’s not true.” He objects, yelping as Louis goes for another hole next, index finger digging into Nick’s thigh.

“But they do, look.”

“Stop it.” Nick exclaims, flailing as Louis finds another hole to poke his finger through but then manages to trap Louis’ hand against his own thigh. “They have a perfectly reasonable hole to fabric ratio, stop being a brat.”

“’m not.” Louis grumbles, all but crossing his arms over his chest when Nick lets him go, still eyeing his hands carefully and waiting for the next attack. It doesn’t come, and when he dares look at Louis’ face instead he finds him stonily staring out through the car window, bottom lip caught between his teeth.

Realization dawns on him. “Are you nervous?”

“No.”

It’s spoken much too quickly to be believable, and if nothing else the terse line of Louis’ shoulders against the seat would let him know. They’re on their way to Aimee and Ian’s house and most of Nick’s friends will be there. It’s as if everyone mutually decided that it’s been too long since they had a proper all-nighter and hosting duties fell on Aimee and Ian. Even Harry and Niall are coming, on the verge of finishing their next album they had decided it was time to blow off some steam. It’s a Saturday, a rare weekend without match day for Louis, and Nick has been looking forward to this. “You are.”

Louis mutters something near unintelligible under his breath. He’s still looking stonily out the window, playing with the zipper of his army green jacket. “What was that, love?” Nick can’t help himself. He should act the supportive boyfriend but he has a feeling Louis would bite his head off if he went for sympathetic right now, so he settles for some gentle ribbing.

“You heard me.” Louis replies, narrowing his eyes in Nick’s direction. “I said I want them to like me.” He repeats, looking positively mutinous and Nick takes pity on him. He has to, can’t stand the unhappy frown on Louis’ face any longer. He has obviously gone soft in his older age. 

“They will. You’ve met most of them already. We had lunch with Aimee and Colette last week.” 

He has introduced dozens of dates and short lived boyfriends to his friends over the years, their group tends to adopt whoever is dating one of them into their circle with ease. A few have stuck around, become spouses and long-term partners. Most of them have disappeared again, becoming nothing but casual comments like ‘remember that bloke you dated…’. Nick’s so called relationships all fall into the latter category and he has never really been heartbroken about any of them ending. A few of them has led to him spending an afternoon sulking on Colette’s sofa or eating too much ice cream for someone who’s lactose intolerant. He might have pictured himself heartbroken at the time, but now he knows better. Because now there’s Louis and the thought of losing him is enough to turn Nick’s insides into a tightly wound, ice cold knot.

Eventually he distracts Louis by asking him about the next event he’s doing with Switchboard. It’s obvious Louis can tell what he’s trying to do, but he plays along and it’s not long before the driver pulls over outside of Aimee and Ian’s house.

They are among the last to arrive, and only have time for a moment of small talk with Harry before Ian announces that dinner is ready and everyone sets off in a wild frenzy to get food on their plate and find somewhere to sit. They’re too many to fit around the dining room table, and Nick and Louis are amongst the group who ends up in the living room. They settle down on one of the sofas, and Nick’s pleased when Douglas and Harry sit down next to Louis and quickly engage him in a discussion about the summer’s European championship.

It’s easy from there. Nick concentrates on his dinner, listening with one ear to the conversation between Louis and his friends. He hadn’t thought about the Euros, and the possibility of Louis playing for England. When no one’s looking he sneaks his phone out of his pocket and does a quick google search on the tournament to find out when and where it’s taking place. Apparently the squad is yet to be announced. That’s a relief. “I’m gonna go get a refill,” he tells Louis, squeezing his thigh right above his knee. “Want anything?”

“Beer, please.” Louis replies, looking up from his plate with an easy smile on his face. “Now shoo, I have embarrassing stories about you to pry out of young Harold here.”

“Did I tell you Harry’s a Manc?” Nick goes for diversion. The reaction is immediate, Louis eyes narrow at the same time as Harry let’s out a playfully affronted ‘hey’. Satisfied they’ll have something to talk about while he’s gone that doesn’t include the many drunken mishaps him and Harry have lived through together, Nick walks off in direction of the kitchen. When he returns Colette has joined them, and Louis looks a little less at ease where he’s backed into the corner of the sofa. Recognizing the look on Colette’s face as her fierce best friend-look, Nick moves across the room in fast strides.

“What are you doing?” He asks, barely able to quell the urge to squeeze down between Colette and Louis to somehow interrupt the interrogation he’s sensing. He settles for some intimidating glaring in their general direction, would put both hands on his hips for more impact if he wasn’t carrying both a bottle of beer for Louis and his own glass of wine.

“Nothing.” Harry is a picture of innocence. Nick isn’t buying it.

Louis chuckles, reaching out for the beer. “They’re questioning me about my intentions, I think. They’re not being very subtle.”

Nick’s friends are the worst. “Is that so?” He says, shooting Colette a glare that she barely pays any attention to. Then turns to Louis who smiles softly as their eyes meet and Nick can feel himself relax a little from the look alone. “What are your intentions, then, Tomlinson?”

Louis pretends to think it over, obviously enjoying the way Nick is playing along. He as a mouthful of beer before he replies. “To do my very best to keep you happy for as long as you’ll have me around.”

Colette coos. She actually coos as if faced with a newborn kitten or a really nice Balenciaga bag. Nick has never heard her make that sound before and it’s unnerving. He and Louis are not cute. They’re funny and sexy and take really good selfies. “Right.” He grins, knowing from the playful glint in Louis’ eyes that there is more coming. “That all?”

“And to regularly make you come so hard you can’t even remember your own name.” Louis continues, deadpan. Harry chokes on his beer.

Nick has found a keeper. He really has.

The night goes on, the party increasing in volume as a few friends of Ian drop by on their way home from watching a rugby match. Nick’s in the living room, he’s got a good buzz going, feeling warm and a little floaty. Disclosure is playing a touch too loud, and he has to lean in to hear what Aimee and her friend Steph are talking about. It’s requiring a little too much attention to keep track of the conversation and Nick finds himself pretending to listen, instead looking at Louis on the other side of the room, talking to Niall and laughing into his drink.

Nick is so, so in love with him.

It hits him like a punch, for a second stealing his breath from his lungs, heart beating a frantic tattoo against his ribcage.

“Nick?” Aimee’s trying to catch his attention, her hand on his arm bringing him back to the present.

“Huh? Sorry, I’ve got to-“ He excuses himself and walks away without looking back. He doesn’t walk up to Louis and Niall though, fears the words might come jumping out of his mouth with no regard for circumstance whatsoever if he got too close right now. Instead he turns left down the corridor, makes his way through the crowd gathered in the kitchen and slips out the kitchen door as Douglas and Pixie come walking back in. He pretends not to hear them calling his name, pushing the door closed behind him.

It’s still light out, the days growing longer as they near May. It’s not spring weather yet, however, and he shivers a bit as he walks over to the lounge chairs to his right and sits down, both hands wrapped around the beer bottle. He waits for the feeling to wear off or turn into something less monumental. It doesn’t. A minute later there’s nothing but the simple yet overwhelming fact. He’s in love with Louis, loves him. It’s never felt like this before. He has another mouthful of beer. Happy. There’s no panic, no need to run. He’s happy, content. He has another drink and pulls a hand through his hair. The sound coming from inside increases briefly in volume as the door is pushed open.

“Nick?” It’s Louis with his shoulders drawn up, rubbing his hands over his arms to fight off the chill as he walks up to where Nick’s sitting. “What are you doing out here?” He continues, sitting down next to him and huddling into Nick’s side, pushing until Nick lifts his arm to accommodate him. He smells like aftershave and beer and Louis. He’s looking a little loose around the edges and feels warm against Nick’s side. “Oh, nice, give that here,” he continues, stealing the bottle from Nick and downing the last of it before leaving the bottle at their feet.

“Nothing, just-“ Nick begins but doesn’t know what to say, so he twists his upper body and claims Louis’ lips in a kiss, pouring every bit of his feelings into it. Louis makes a muffled sound of surprise against his mouth, but recovers quickly, hands going to Nick’s hair to pull him closer.

“What was that for?” Louis asks quietly when they break apart, resting their foreheads together. His palm is soft against Nick’s cheek and Nick fears he might burst from the feelings crowding in his chest.

“Do I need a reason?” Nick replies, those three other words burning so hot on his tongue he’s surprised there isn’t steam coming out of his ears.

“No” Louis smiles, kissing him again. “Fuck, you’re good at that. I like your friends but I really want you to take me home right now.”

“They like you too.” Nick shivers as Louis’ hands slide from his neck to where his shirt is unbuttoned a bit down his chest, tugging a little at the chain around his neck. They could lie down right there, on the sun lounger, and he could get his hands on Louis the way he’s been itching to all night. But knowing his friends it wouldn’t take long before someone came looking, or ventured outside for a smoke. “One more drink, then we’ll leave, yeah? Aimee makes a killer gin and tonic.”

“One more drink,” Louis agrees, breath hot against Nick’s ear. “Then I want you to get a car here, take me back to yours and fuck me so hard I’ll feel it for days.”

Nick has never downed a G&T faster in his life.

 

 

 

 

“Wait,” Nick gasps out, beads of sweat trickling down his temple. His arms are shaking as he holds himself over Louis. He can barely look at him, can only focus on pulling in pulling in hard, deep breaths through his nose or he’ll come. Louis is in a similar state, a trembling mess underneath Nick, fingers digging into his shoulder so hard there will probably be marks. Nick doesn’t care. 

It’s been nearly an hour since Louis’ cornered him as he walked out of the bathroom, barely dry from his shower, and simply pulled the towel from around his hips before dropping to his knees. The towel is still in a damp heap on the floor, completely forgotten. The shower had been Nick’s solid attempt at a productive afternoon after a morning spent together naked in bed. Neither of them are too hungover from last night’s party, but it had been all too easy to use that as an excuse to let Pig out the backdoor and get back in bed after breakfast. “I gotta -“

“No.” Louis grits out. “Nick, fuck, move. Move.”

Nick’s mouth drops open on a moan, pulled from somewhere deep inside him as the way Louis moves has him slipping further in, bottoming out completely. Louis is a furnace around him, hot and tight, and it’s too good. “Don’t do that or I’ll come.” He warns, barely unable to finish the sentence and scrambling for purchase in the messed up sheets as Louis moves again underneath him.

“Don’t care.” Louis gasps, throat working as he swallows tightly. He’s gripping Nick’s hip tightly, urging him on. “Fuck me.”

Nick does as he’s told, head falling forward to rest in the crook of Louis’ neck. He licks the skin, tasting the salt of Louis’ sweat in the dip of his collarbone.

“Like that.” Louis pants, digging his heels into Nick’s upper thighs to pull him closer. “No. Can I, hold on-” He grabs a hold around Nick’s hip, halting his movements, “On your back.” He makes a face as Nick pulls out, and pushes his fringe back from where it’s been plastered against his forehead. Nick has barely settled on his back before Louis is straddling him, reaching behind himself to guide Nick back in. 

Louis is a vision like this. Nick can’t take his eyes off him as Louis leans back a bit and starts moving his hips, dick hard and leaking against his stomach. Biting his lip in concentration, Nick thrusts his hips up to meet him. He digs his fingers into Louis’ thigh, enjoying the feeling of muscle flexing under his palms. “You look so good,” He groans, letting one hand travel upwards, across Louis’ trembling abs. “Feel even better.”

Louis opens his mouth to reply, head lolling to the side as Nick fucks into him harder but the words turn into nothing but a garbled sound of pleasure as Nick finally finds the right angle, hitting his prostate right on. Encouraged, Nick steels himself and picks up speed. Forcing Louis to change pace he goes for slower, harder thrusts that soon has Louis scrambling to get a hand on his own dick and coming with a low shout, back arching and clenching impossibly tight around Nick.

It doesn’t take long after that; Nick’s orgasm feels as if it’s being wrenched from somewhere deep inside of him, an explosion of white hot light. He barely notices the way Louis collapses on top of him, face buried in Nick’s neck. For a moment there is nothing but silence and Nick feels drugged, everything hazy and tingling. Eventually Louis seems to gather enough strength and motor skills to move, climbing off Nick and collapsing next to him. Nick finds himself frowning at the lack of contact between them. Moving slowly, with muscles feeling like they have been replaced with golden syrup, he gets rid of the condom by dropping it on the floor before slowly rolling over to settle on his stomach, one arm thrown across Louis’ chest. 

He can feel Louis shift next to him, moving to lie on his side facing Nick. There’s the press of soft lips against his shoulder as Louis’ hand curls around Nick’s sweat damp nape, fingertips dancing over his skin. Nick hums in response, heartbeat steadily slowing in his chest.

“Did you just drop the condom on the floor?” Louis mumbles a moment later.

“Maybe.” Nick replies, frowning with his face half buried in the pillow. That will be… interesting, later.

“Yuck.” Louis groans, and then shoves Nick in the shoulder. “Move.”

“I’m broken.” Nick mumbles, “I think you broke me.”

“Me?” Louis continues to push until Nick acquiesces, Louis moves with him, edging closer and grumbling until Nick moves his arm to act as a pillow. Apparently content, Louis lets out a breath, brushing a hand through the hair on Nick’s chest.

Nick pays him little attention, curling the arm Louis is using as a pillow around Louis’ shoulder, drawing tiny swirls into his skin. He’s dozing, nearly asleep, but then the way Louis’ is touching him changes and catches his attention. He blinks blearily, bending his neck in a way that is probably highly unflattering to see what Louis is doing. What he finds has him confused. “What are you doing?”

“Spikes.” Louis grins, turning his head to look up at Nick. He doesn’t stop trying to twirl tufts of chest hair into tiny spikes using his thumb and index finger. It looks ridiculous, twinges a bit when Louis gets a little too enthusiastic.

“What? Why-“ Nick makes a half-hearted attempt to grab his hand and stop him, frowning as Louis pulls his hand out of reach only to continue seconds later, giggling as he does.

“Trendsetter Nicholas Grimshaw of BBC radio 1’s popular breakfast show,” Louis narrates, continuing his ministrations. “… known for his sense of style and brave fashion choices were seen this past weekend with a new, and different, look-“ 

He can’t finish his sentence, laughing too much to get the words out and his delight is contagious. Nick laughs with him, a look down on his chest only adding to his amusement. He catches Louis’ hand in his own, entangling their fingers and is still chuckling when Louis leans in for a kiss. “Can I tell you a secret?” Nick asks when they break apart, pushing Louis’ fringe back from where it’s falling into his eyes.

“Always.” Louis smiles, thumbing at his chin and stealing another, brief kiss.

“If you ever tell Colette this I’ll deny it to my dying breath, but you’re my best friend.” Nick tells him, noticing the pleased crinkle of Louis’ eyes at his words.

“Your secret’s safe with me.” Louis tells him, doing his very best to look serious and failing completely. “And same. You’re my favourite person. Don’t ever tell my mum I said that.”

“Promise.” Nick replies, stretching lazily. “Shower?”

“Yeah,” Louis agrees, making a face at the way they’re stuck together as he lifts his arm off Nick’s chest. They stumble into the shower, Louis’ arms wrapped around Nick’s waist from behind as he follows in Nick’s footsteps.

 

 

 

 

Nick’s mum calls as they’re towelling dry, and Nick has to rummage through the pile of clothes they left on the floor last night in search for his phone. “Hi Mama,” he greets her, trapping the phone between his ear and shoulder as he reaches for the joggers Louis is offering him.

“Hi darling,” Eileen’s voice is warm over the phone. He has missed his mum, he realizes, can picture her so easily puttering around the house in her comfy clothes, still a firm believer that Sunday’s are for staying in. “How are you, love?”

“’s all good.” He reassures her, forgoing a shirt in order to keep their conversation going. “How are you and Dad?”

“Oh, same old.” She chuckles, “Olivia came over this morning. She showed me that picture of you and Louis on her phone, the one Aimee took.”

“She did, huh.” A little flustered, Nick picks at a thread that’s coming loose in the duvet. Louis looks up from where he plugged his phone to charge, brow raised in question. Nick manages a smile, nodding as Louis makes a gesture that he’s going downstairs.

They had discovered the picture this morning on Aimee’s Instagram. An innocent snap of the two of them together at the party, Louis hugging Nick with his face buried in Nick’s chest and Nick with his arm around Louis waist, head thrown back in laughter. They look a little tipsy and a lot comfortable, no space left between their bodies. Neither of them had been tagged in the picture, but it had found its way to twitter anyway. Nick might already have it saved as his homescreen.

“The two of you look very sweet together.” Eileen continues and Nick has a fairly good idea of where this conversation is going. He hasn’t brought someone home to meet his parents since he was doing A levels and still tried dating girls. “You should bring him up with you the next time you come to visit. Your dad and I would love to meet him.” 

Ah, there it is. He adores her for letting the ‘why haven’t you brought him round yet’ remain unspoken, even if it’s evident in her voice. “I will.” He promises, digging his toes into the thick carpet on the floor as he speaks. “You’d like him, Mum.”

“I’m sure I will.” His mum reassures him, and he can hear the smile in her voice. It makes him wish he could get Louis in the car and drive up there immediately to meet her. “I’ve always thought that once you finally settled on someone you’d make a good choice, it would take someone special to keep your attention.”

“Are you saying I’m flighty?” Nick gasps, feigning offense, knowing she’s completely right. His mum only laughs.

He wanders downstairs in search of Louis once they hang up, turning right in the direction of the kitchen. He finds it empty, but there’s a pot of coffee waiting for him and when he checks the fridge there’s an unopened carton of Lactofree. Louis hates the stuff, claims it makes his tea taste like mud and yet it has made its way onto his weekly grocery order. Smiling, Nick prepares his coffee the way he likes it before continuing on with the search for his missing boyfriend. 

He doesn’t have to look for very long. Walking into the living room he finds Louis slouched on the sofa, more lying down than sitting up. He’s playing FIFA, completely engrossed in his game, because apparently he doesn’t get enough football in his day-to-day life as it is. Nick watches him for a bit, sipping his coffee and smiling at the way Louis’ brow is furrowed slightly in concentration, fingers moving quickly over the controller.

“You’re staring.”

Nick shrugs even though Louis isn’t looking, eyes glued to the screen. He watches the tiny players moving up and down the pitch for a moment, before something catches his attention. “Are you playing against your own team?”

Louis shrugs, biting his lip in concentration and it takes him a while to reply. “It would be weird, playing as myself, wouldn’t it?”

“Some might say it would be the natural choice.” Nick replies, settling down next to him on the sofa, close enough for their knees to knock together. He watches for a bit, has some more coffee, so content he feels like he might melt from the warmth of it. “Barcelona, really?”

“Yep.”

“Is this some attempt at catharsis?”

“Fuck off,” Louis scoffs, but there’s a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth and Nick kind of wants to touch it. He does; reaching out to poke at the tiny dimple that appears when Louis smiles.

“Oi.” Louis objects, dimple deepening in tune with his smile, tilting his head to the side to escape Nick’s fingers. “Enough of that, I have a cup to win. And I’ll have you know I could have been a Barca player if I had wanted to”

“Yeah?”

“They made an offer-” Louis trails off, biting his lip in concentration as he makes one of the tiny Barcelona players try a shot on goal, the ball flying into the back of the net. “Yes!” Noticing Nick’s evident confusion he speaks up again as the game continues on to a kick off. “They wanted me, uhm, last winter?”

“And how come we’re not having this conversation on a Spanish beach right now?” Nick asks, ignoring the uncomfortable twinge at the thought. If Louis had played for Barcelona, the chances of the two of them meeting at all would have been minuscule. Not to mention how Nick hasn’t really thought about the possibility of Louis moving away, of leaving London or even England. He doesn’t like that idea at all.

“I said no.”

“You turned down Barcelona?” Nick can’t keep the incredulous note out of his voice.

“I did.” Louis agrees, looking over at Nick briefly. “I’m happy where I am. I’ll stay at Arsenal for the rest of my career if they’ll have me.”

“Fingers crossed then,” Nick says, making himself more comfortable on the sofa. He ends up lying down and pushing his feet under Louis’ thigh, ignoring his playfully muttered protest. There’s a hand squeezing his ankle briefly, and it makes him smile as he brings up his email on his phone, balancing his coffee cup on his chest.

It’s another half hour before Louis exits his game. He drops the controller on the table, stretching languidly. Nick watches him silently, catching sight of the sliver of smooth skin revealed when Louis’ t-shirt rides up. “Hungry?” Louis asks, hand once again wrapped around Nick’s ankle, warm against his skin.

“Huh?” Nick falters, a little disappointed when Louis lowering his arms ruins his view. “Sure.”

“What are you in the mood for?” Louis reaches for Nick’s mug and has a sip, making a face when he tastes the lukewarm coffee and Lactofree combination, and leaves the mug on the table.

“You.” Nick replies earnestly. “Come here.”

“I meant for tea, dork.” Louis shifts in his seat, pulling his knees up close to his chest. “Sushi? I could order from the app.”

“Sure.” Nick agrees easily, pushing himself into an upright position, struggling a bit with his feet still caught under Louis. He frowns as Louis leans out of reach, the way the corner of his mouth is twitching letting Nick know he knows exactly what he’s doing. “Lou,” he whines, reaching between his own bent knees to try and catch a hold of Louis’ arm. Louis doesn’t reply, silently tapping away on his phone and unsuccessfully trying to keep from grinning. He lets out a laugh as Nick launches for him again and manages to curl a hand around Louis’ bicep to try and pull him closer.

“There,” Louis says, eventually, locking his phone and dropping it next to the video game controller on the table. Louis shirt rides up a little, again, and this time Nick is close enough to touch. He slides a palm over Louis’ lower back, little finger slipping underneath the waistband of his pants.

“God, you’re incorrigible.” Louis laughs, and then moves abruptly; getting to his knees on the sofa and turning towards Nick. “The food will be here in thirty minutes.” He points out, pushing Nick back against the cushions before climbing into his lap.

“Whatever shall we do to pass the time?” Nick grins up at him as Louis rolls his eyes. His hand is still resting against Louis’ lower back and flexing his fingers he can feel goosebumps break out across Louis’ skin. He curls both hands around Louis’ hips, under his shirt, before sliding them lower, fingers catching on the waistband of his joggers.

“Seems like you have a suggestion or two.” Louis smirks. He’s squirming on Nick’s lap as he tries to get more comfortable, eyes a little darker as they roam over Nick.

Nick stretches out further, arms slung over his head and silently crows in victory when Louis leans forward with his hands on either side of Nick’s head, claiming his lips in a kiss.

 

 

 

 

 

Nick leans back against the seat of his Uber, pulling in a slow, measured breath. It’s late Friday afternoon and the whole week has been chaotic, culminating in today’s general awfulness. His head is pounding, a pulsating kind of ache that drips down into his neck, leaving him nauseated and feeling like his head might actually fall off. It’s been a long day, too long, with a never-ending list of things going wrong

Pig woke him up at three in the morning, a mere four hours after he had gone to bed. He’d been confused at first but there’s nothing like dog sick all over your floor to clue you in on what’s going on. She’d demanded to be taken outside, obviously troubled by her upset stomach, so he’d found himself wandering around his neighbourhood for a good twenty minutes and it had been impossible going back to sleep after that. Not to mention how Pig not feeling well had left him worried on top of the fatigue. 

The show had been absolute mayhem, with their guest getting caught in traffic and technical difficulties and Nick feeling like death warmed over. Back to back meetings had followed, and Nick loves the process of working with Topman but he’s been going between the BBC building and Topshop’s offices more times than he likes to count. Somewhere between the morning’s chaotic start and the meetings, where he completely failed to express himself like a professional adult, he forgot to eat lunch. It’s nearly six o’clock now and he’s absolutely knackered, but finally on his way home. 

He’s supposed to meet up with Louis, Liam and Sophia in a bit. They’re going out for dinner at a restaurant one of Sophia’s friends have opened just a few days ago. The mere thought of socializing makes him want to curl up and hide, and he feels shitty for even thinking that way. He has barely seen Louis all week, both of them too busy. Nick with trying to juggle all this work commitments, and Louis with practice and some kind of promotional photoshoot and Switchboard work. He carefully pushes his fingertips into his forehead to try and somehow ease the pain. It doesn’t work, only leaves him swallowing hard against the growing nausea. The sound of his phone ringing has him wincing, shuffling around to retrieve it from his pocket. It’s Louis and he picks up with a tired ‘hiya’.

“Hi love,” Louis says. He sounds happy and well-rested and Nick shouldn’t begrudge him that but it seems like today isn’t the day for rational thought. “Liam called just now, they’re meeting us at the restaurant.” Louis continues, “You home?”

“No, I’m not.” Nick replies, curtly. 

“You alright?” Louis asks, and it’s obvious he can tell that something’s wrong.

“Knackered, have a headache. Forgot to eat.”

“What, forgot lunch? How do you forget to eat?” Louis sounds completely incredulous. Nick can feel his skin prickle in annoyance and he knows he should hang up right now, before he says something he’ll regret. “Lunch was hours ago, no wonder you have a headache.”

“Well, I did.” Nick snaps. “And I’m not really in the mood for your lectures right now, so can we skip to the part where you tell me when and where we’re meeting the others, so I can go back to being an idiot in peace?”

He knows he’s being an absolute dick. It’s like he can see himself make a mess of things from somewhere outside of himself, yet he can’t seem to stop.

“Whoa,” Louis objects, “That’s not what I said at all.”

“Whatever, just give me the name of the restaurant.”

“Don’t sound too enthusiastic,” Louis’ voice is dry like a desert. “I might be fooled into thinking you’re actually looking forward to seeing my friends. And me.”

“Well I’ve been around people all day, can’t say I’m jumping with joy at the prospect.”

“Right. Listen, I don’t wanna fight with you. I’ll tell them you’re not feeling well, yeah.”

“Why?” Nick bites back, “Afraid I’m not gonna live up to expectations?”

Louis is quiet for a few gut wrenching seconds, long enough for Nick to regret every word that’s come out of his mouth in the last minute. “Not fair.” Louis says, eventually, and Nick already knows that, doesn’t appreciate the reminder.

“Add it to the list of my failures today.”He sighs, and it’s time to end this conversation before he fucks up even worse. “I have to go, I’ll talk to you later.” He doesn’t wait for Louis to respond before he hangs up, has barely let go of his phone before shame rolls over him in waves. It almost makes him angrier, the embarrassment feeling like the cream on top of an incredibly shitty cake

Walking from the car to his flat feels a little like he’s walking over a bog and it’s a little scary if he stops to think about it. He unlocks the door, hand shaking, so grateful Pig will be staying with Colette who has been looking after her all day. He’s gingerly stepping out of his boots when his phone signals an incoming message, and thumbing it open he finds one from Louis.

_Liam and Soph said to feel better._

It makes him pause, caught off guard by the burning behind his eyes. He feels like shit and to make it even worse he’s acting like a total idiot. He sinks his teeth into his bottom lip, refusing himself the relief that having a bit of a sob might bring as he types out a series of texts in reply.

_I’m sorry. I’m a dick._

_Tell them thanks._

_I’ll call you later?_

_Sorry xxx_

He drops his phone on the table in his hallway, stepping into his bedroom to change out of his jeans and into a pair of joggers that could probably do with a wash. Shivering despite the quick change, he walks down the hallway and into the kitchen. There’s ibuprofen in the cupboard by the fridge, and he has two, swallowing them down with a glass of water. Having done that there’s nothing to do but collapse on the sofa and curl up, pulling the afghan his sister gave him for Christmas haphazardly over himself. A few minutes of rest and then he’ll get back up, order some food, maybe have a shower. Apologise to his boyfriend. He feels a little better, lying down, but not well enough for the jagged lump in his throat to disappear. Louis hasn’t texted him back.

He wakes up disoriented, blinking confusedly against the dim light of his flat. It takes him a few moments to come to his senses and to place the sound he’s hearing as an incoming call on his phone. The doorbell startles him, the sound echoing through the flat. He sits up gingerly, noting the remains of his headache as he pulls a hand through his hair. Keeping the afghan around his shoulders he shuffles over to the door, pulling it open.

Louis is on the other side, looking good in a denim jacket and his custom dark, skinny jeans. He’s got his phone in his hand, and looks up at Nick with a frazzled expression when the door opens. “There you are, fuck, what are you doing? I’ve been calling you for hours?”

For a second Nick only stares, feeling unkempt and a little embarrassed suddenly face to face with Louis, clears his throat. “Hi. Sorry. I was sleeping. What time is it?”

“It’s almost nine.” Louis replies, shifting his weight. “Well, can I come in?” He asks, still sounding a little annoyed with Nick. He’s carrying a white plastic bag, the telltale shape of takeaway boxes clearly visible. Nick steps away from the door to allow Louis room to enter, shivering when the afghan slips off his shoulder. “You don’t look good.” Louis says, annoyance turning to something akin to worry as he drops the bag to the floor and steps closer to Nick. “How are you feeling?”

Nick shrugs, the afghan slips off his shoulder again, and he’s horrified to find that he’s once again close to tears. He looks down, and squares his jaw to keep from embarrassing himself further.

“Do you have a temperature?” Louis asks but Nick doesn’t respond, only shrugs again. Normally he soaks up any kind of attention when he’s poorly, but today he doesn’t feel like he deserves it. Louis steps into Nick’s personal space, fingertips light on his skin as he places his palm against Nick’s forehead. Nick’s pretty sure he doesn’t have a fever, but Louis’ hand is cool against his skin and he can’t help but lean into the touch just a little. “I can never tell, we could call my mum-”

“What are you doing here?” Nick interrupts him, missing the contact the second Louis’ hand drops from his forehead.

“Do you want me to leave?” Louis asks him carefully.

“No. It’s just,” Nick pauses, sucks in a deep, steadying breath before he continues. “I was awful, on the phone earlier. I’m sorry.”

“Apology accepted.” Louis replies, and it feels a little too easy to Nick, like he’s getting away with something he should be forced to own up to. “I told Liam we’d have dinner some day next week instead.” 

“Sorry.” Nick says it again, sniffles a bit. He’s so tired.

“Oi,” Louis objects quietly, reaching out to tug the afghan more firmly around Nick’s shoulders. “Stop apologising, please. Did you eat?”

“No.” Nick admits, “I was supposed to but I fell asleep.” He finishes the sentence off with a full body shiver that has him wincing when it makes his headache flare up again. Louis notices, lifting both hands to place them gently against Nick’s temples and forehead. It feels nice, grounding.

“That’s okay, I brought food. How ‘bout a shower first?” 

A shower does actually sound appealing, and Nick nods before he can think too much about it. 

“Great,” Louis says, and when he pulls Nick into a hug, Nick comes willingly, breathing in the familiar scent. Louis gives him a good squeeze, hands moving comfortingly across Nick’s back before he lets go. “Now, you go get warm, and I’ll heat up the food.” 

Nick does as he’s told, shuffling in direction of his bathroom as Louis heads for the kitchen. He allows himself a long moment of simply standing under the hot spray of the shower, concentrating on nothing but the water sluicing down his back. He doesn’t hear Louis enter his bedroom, but there is a clean pair of joggers waiting for him on the bed when he walks out of the bathroom, towel around his hips, as well as a sweater and a pair of thick socks. 

Returning to the living room he finds Louis on the sofa, takeout on the table in front of him. “There you are.” He says as Nick walks up and then settles down next to him. “Good shower?”

Nick nods, presses his knee against the side of Louis’ thigh.

“Here,” Louis says, pushing a glass of water into his hand. “Drink this. All of it.”

Nick does, downs all of it even when it stretches his stomach a little uncomfortably. When he’s done Louis gets up and brings the glass into the kitchen, refilling it. “Now,” he says, sitting down again, close enough for their thighs to touch. “Chicken or lamb?”

He has brought Lebanese food, most likely from the restaurant he took Nick to on their first date, and the idea that he did that when Nick was such a raging asshole earlier has Nick struggling not to apologise again. “Chicken, please.” He says, then, “I don’t deserve this.”

Louis, done scooping food onto Nick’s plate, licks a fleck of sauce off his thumb. “You do.” He replies, shoving Nick gently in the shoulder when he can’t keep the disbelieving sound in. “You _do_. We’re a team, even during the crap days when one of us is a little bit of a wanker to his wonderful and sexy boyfriend.” 

Nick finds himself smiling, so unbelievably grateful he didn’t manage to screw this, _them_ , up too badly. Those three words are burning in his throat, and he nearly says them out loud. Maybe later, when they’ve not only just made up. He’s never meant them the way he would now and he wants the moment to be perfect, something worth remembering. “You are sexy.” He agrees instead, leaning in to brush his lips across Louis’ cheekbone, nose buried in the short hair by his temple.

“And,” Louis prompts, reaching for his own plate and filling it with food. He’s trying really hard not to smile and it makes Nick’s heart beat double in his chest.

“And wonderful.” Nick admits, parroting Louis. “And I’m famished.”

“Then eat.” Louis chuckles, pushing him away and handing him his plate. Nick accepts it gratefully, already feeling a little better. The headache is the same, and the day’s events still haunt him a little, but it’s still better like this; with Louis next to him and not back home in Hampstead angry with Nick.

They eat in comfortable silence, Louis flicks the television on and leaves it playing on low volume. Twenty minutes later Nick’s ready to burst, so full he can barely move, and watching Louis as he gathers up their plates and the leftovers and carries it all into the kitchen. He almost nods off to the sound of Louis loading the dishwasher, blinks his eyes open when a knuckle brushes over his cheek.

“Tea?” Louis offers him a steaming cup, and Nick nods, wrapping his fingers around the warm ceramic. “Now, go to bed, Nicholas.”

“It’s not even ten.” Nick points out, not sure why since he’s definitely tired enough to be falling asleep sitting up. Louis sardonic eyebrow lift tells Nick he’s thinking the same, so he gets to his feet and heads for the bedroom. Louis follows with Nick’s laptop in his arms, setting it on the bed while Nick undresses. He’s not cold anymore, letting out a sigh when he slips in between the cool sheets. Louis settles down next to him in bed, on top of the duvet, and opens up Netflix. 

“What do you wanna watch?” Louis asks, but Nick couldn’t care less and tells him as much. He sips his tea while Louis ponders his decision, leaving the cup on the bedside table once he’s done. He makes himself comfortable, plastered to Louis’ side, pleased when Louis sinks lower and moves his arm to accommodate him. Louis settles on a comedy, and Nick has every intention of watching it with him but finds himself dozing with his face pressed against Louis’ ribs, Louis’ fingers dancing over his elbow, down his arm. He’s asleep within minutes.

 

 

 

 

Nick wakes up to soft lips against the base of his neck. Louis is moulded to his back, arm wrapped around his waist, kissing his neck, his shoulder. They forgot to close the blinds last night, and the room is bright with early morning sun. He keeps still, feigning sleep, he’s tired and so, so comfortable. Louis must notice he’s awake though. “Morning.”

“Hmm.” Nick doesn’t open his eyes. He merely stretches his legs languidly, knocking their feet together. The headache is gone for the first time in days, the stress and frustration of yesterday feeling far away. He has work this evening, DJ-ing at a store opening, but he doesn’t plan on moving anytime soon. It would take good work with a crowbar to pry him from Louis’ side right now. He sighs heavily as Louis slides a hand up his chest, brushing over a nipple and sending frissons of heat down to pool in his groin.

Louis tugs on his shoulder, urging him turn around and Nick obliges. He shuffles around slowly so that he’s on his back, turning his head towards Louis as he blinks his eyes open. Louis is right there, looking pleased and sleep mussed, eyes dark blue. “Hi.” Louis says, quietly, pulling the duvet up further around them.

Nick still doesn’t speak, clumsily untangling his hand from the duvet and resting the back of his hand against Louis’ cheek. He hasn’t shaved in a few days and there’s a hint of red to his scruff that Nick really likes. He rubs over the bristly hairs with the back of his fingers, watching Louis’ lips tug into a smile. Louis leans over to kiss him, a soft close-mouthed peck, and Nick doesn’t mean to close his eyes when they pull apart but he does. It’s only Louis’ quiet laughter that stops him from falling back asleep.

“Sleepy, huh?” Louis chuckles, running a hand through Nick’s hair, almost petting him and Nick leans into the touch. Nick likes Louis’ voice on an average day, would buy audio books about football analysis if Louis was the one recording them. He likes it even more now; a little raspier than during the day, pitched low and meant only for Nick’s ears.

He hums again, twisting his upper body around so that they’re facing each other. He moves closer, until his nose is buried in Louis’ collarbone. Louis smells good, no cologne hiding the scent that’s all him and Nick breathes him in deeply. He places a hand on Louis’ ribs, stroking over the sleep soft skin and grabbing at the fleshy part of his hip.

Louis shifts, calf sliding up Nick’s as he moves a leg between Nick’s. It brings them flush together, chest to knees, legs entwined. They’re both half hard, and Nick exhales choppily against Louis’ collarbone when their dicks rub together. 

Encouraged, Louis picks up his earlier explorations, slipping a hand down Nick’s back to grope his bum, grinding against him. Nick presses his lips against the pulse point on Louis’ throat, kissing it and feeling the vibrations when Louis hums in response. He continues lazily exploring the naked skin offered to him, kissing and using his teeth on whatever part of Louis’ chest and neck he can reach. Louis’ hands are strong and sure on him, stroking and kneading. He’s hard by the time Louis gets a hand around both of them, fingers digging into Louis’ hip at the first flick of Louis’ wrist. It’s a little rough, too dry and completely perfect. Nick quickly loses himself to the feeling, panting against Louis’ throat as he works them over, not bothered with how he’s letting Louis do most of the work. 

It doesn’t take long before Louis’ movements grow jerky, hand twisting roughly around them both. He comes first, and Nick pulls back to kiss him through it before following. He’s dimly aware of Louis getting out of bed and returning to give them both a cursory wipe down, kisses him back without opening his eyes when Louis covers his lips with his own. His body feels heavy; like he could melt into the mattress. Content, he reaches blindly for Louis, pleased when he curls up against Nick’s side, head on his shoulder.

The next time he wakes up it’s to Pig jumping on the bed, landing on his legs. Confused he looks up to find Louis by the foot of the bed, dressed in joggers and a navy jumper Nick recognizes as his own. “Hey,” he says, and has to pause to clear his throat before continuing. “You’re up, and Pig’s here.”

“Colette dropped her off a while ago. We went for a walk.” Louis says, and that’s when Nick realizes Louis is still holding Pig’s collar and leash in one hand.

“You took my dog for a walk.” Nick repeats, petting her absentmindedly. He has no idea what time it is, a little shocked by the fact that he’s slept through Louis getting dressed and Colette stopping by with his exuberant dog.

“I did. Seemed like you could use the lie in.” Louis nods, reaching out to tug playfully at Pig’s ear and laughing when she turns to him, scoffing. “Got you one of your disgusting smoothies. And we stopped by that bakery, you know the one, and got those chocolate-y croissant thingies.”

“Pain au chocolat.”

“Yep.”

“You took my dog for a walk and brought me back breakfast pastries.” It’s still not a question, surprise colouring his voice and something warm and fuzzy growing in his chest.

Louis laughs, rolling his eyes at how Nick is repeating everything he has said. “Yes, love. Should I be worried about your hearing going bad in your old age?”

“Come here,” Nick begs, reaching out and wrapping his fingers around Louis’ wrist, pulling impatiently at his arm. Louis comes willingly, chuckling when he’s forced to sit down next to Nick on the side of the bed to keep from face-planting into the mattress. Nick let’s go of his wrist to wrap a hand around his neck, pulling him into a kiss.

“I love you.” Nick mumbles against his lips, then promptly freezes when the reality of what he just said catches up with him. Adrenaline whooshes through his system, leaving his fingertips tingling where they rest against Louis’ nape.

Surprise flickers over Louis’ face for a second, before his lip quirk into a smile. “If I’d known all it took was steal your dog and buy you breakfast, I’d have done so a lot sooner.” Louis says, finding Nick’s hand and giving it a squeeze. He looks pleased, there’s a hint of pink colouring his cheeks and Nick loves him a lot. A part of him thinks the idea should scare him, but in all honestly it doesn’t. It feels safe trusting Louis with this, with his heart.

“Don’t forget the early morning hand jobs.” He points out sagely.

“Oh no, wouldn’t forget about those.” Louis agrees, eyes shining with mirth before turning softer, more sincere. “I love you too.”

It’s Nick’s turn to smile, feeling like it might split his face in two. “Is it the chest hair?” He deadpans, for a second wondering if ribs can break from a person feeling too much. There’s a small chance the emotions bubbling inside of him might not fit inside his ribcage.

“Nah, it’s the hole-y jeans. Nothing more lovable than jeans with more holes than fabric.” Louis jokes. He leans in for a kiss but it’s useless, they’re both smiling too much for it to be much more than an uncomfortable clack of teeth against teeth. Snickering, Louis rests his forehead against Nick’s. “We’re being ridiculously sappy.”

“I won’t tell if you don’t.” Nick grins, slipping a hand underneath the stretched collar of Louis’ jumper, thumb digging into the dip of his collarbone.

“Deal.” Louis agrees, capturing Nick’s straying hand in his and entwining their fingers, kisses the palm. There’s a few seconds of silence then, the two of them doing nothing but look at one another. It’s interrupted by the sudden rumbling of Nick’s stomach, causing both of them to startle before they both start laughing. 

Louis gets off the bed and disappears in direction of the kitchen. He comes back carrying two take away cups, coffee for Nick and tea for himself, the carrier with two smoothies somehow clutched to his chest and bag of pastries hanging from his teeth. Nick helps him unload everything but then stops him with a hand to his chest as Louis moves to get back into bed. 

“What?” 

“This is a no clothes zone.”

“Is it now?” Louis drawls, pushing teasingly against Nick’s palm before standing back up.

“Naked breakfast is totally a thing.” Nick tells him, tugging at the hem of his jumper, brushing his knuckles against Louis’ stomach. “Or at least it should be.”

Louis rolls his eyes but does as he’s told, chucking both his jumper, and the joggers Nick recognizes as the ones he wore himself last night, on the chair in the corner. He nods his approval when Louis turns back to him, hands on his hips, and holds the duvet up for him. “You may enter.”

“Why, thank you.” Louis scoffs, but climbs into bed with a smile on his face. He settles next to Nick, so close their legs are touching hip to toe, reaching across Nick’s lap to pick up his tea.

They make small talk as they eat, going over the week’s events. It’s nice, and Nick’s so horribly in love he thinks it might be radiating off him in waves. He doesn’t miss out on the way Louis’ is constantly finding excuses to touch him, either, a brush of hands or shoulders nudged together. Nick is crumbling the pastry bag into a ball when Louis speaks up. “This,” he holds up the last piece of pastry with two fingers, “has the perfect chocolate to dough ratio, look.”

He holds it out for Nick to inspect, then angles the piece more obviously in his direction. Nick makes a show of fluttering his lashes and simpering out a ‘for me?’, but doesn’t hesitate to lean in and take the offered bite. He can’t help but catch Louis’ index fingers between his lips, using his tongue to make sure all the buttery flakes of pastry are gone. He chews slowly, looking up at Louis as he swallows the last bit down. Louis is staring back at him intently, hand still stretched out in front of him on the duvet.

Nick sits up straighter, carefully moving his empty takeaway cup to the bedside table, dropping the crumbled up paper bag next to it. It’s a futile effort, cleaning up, the bed’s already covered in crumbs.

“The sheets are probably gonna need a wash.” Louis remarks, leaving his own cup on the other table.

“Yup.” Nick agrees, pushing himself close enough to throw a leg over Louis’ thigh, hand sliding up his chest, thumb brushing over a nipple. “Might as well, then.” 

Louis groans derisively at the cheesy comment, but there’s no denying the shiver that runs through him as Nick replaces his thumb with his tongue, or the way he tilts his head down for a kiss. They kiss until Nick can’t taste the chocolate anymore and Louis’ fingers are digging into the upper part of his thigh. He’s hard, pushing his dick against Louis’ hip, groaning quietly as it catches on the ridge of Louis’ hipbone. He reaches out, finding Louis hard too, silky hot against his palm.

“Is this normally a part of naked breakfast?” Louis asks, hips jerking as Nick closes his fist lightly around him, barely touching. 

“Oh, definitely.” Nick murmurs against his jaw, putting his weight on one elbow to hover over Louis and making both of them draw in shuddery breaths as their dicks rub together. “It’s the most important part.” He stops talking when Louis slips a hand down his back, squeezing his bum before sliding a finger down his crack. He spreads his legs further, putting more weight on Louis and moans helplessly as Louis pushes a dry finger against his hole.

“Yeah?” Louis murmurs against his temple, one hand spread over Nick’s ribcage, steadying him. “Can I? Would you let me fuck you?”

Mouth suddenly too dry to properly form the words, Nick can only nod, face buried in Louis’ neck. He swallows. “Yeah,” he croaks, highly aware of every point of contact between them and the firm press of Louis’ finger against his rim. “Yes. I haven’t in a while but… We could, you should do that, sometime.”

“Later yeah?” Louis says, his hand sliding from its position on Nick’s ribs and up past his shoulder, curling in his hair. “Wanna suck you.”

Nick turns to lie on his back, spreading his legs further to make room for Louis to sit between them. Louis watches him, eyes dark with want as they travel down his body and lands on where his dick is hard and leaking against his stomach. The first touch is so light it almost tickles, Louis’ hands splayed over his thighs, thumbs brushing the sensitive skin on the inside. 

Louis takes his time, touching the dip between Nick’s thighs and groin, his hipbones, his sides. Nick loses himself a bit in the sensation and nearly misses it when Louis breathes out an “I love you” against his sternum before leaning down to close his lips around the tip of Nick’s dick; wet, glorious heat for a moment and then it’s gone again as Louis kisses his way up Nick’s stomach.

He licks over a nipple, pinching the other gently with his fingers. Nick can’t help but arch into the touch, hand fisting in the sheets. He’s nearly panting, struggles to kiss Louis back when he licks into Nick’s mouth before trailing wet kisses down his neck. It’s possible, Nick suspects, that all the nerve endings in his body might have gathered in his neck, Louis’ lips leaving him feeling like his skin is burning. He lets his hands roam freely as Louis continues his explorations, touching everywhere he can reach.

Louis heads for his legs again, a hand at the back of Nick’s knee pushing until he pulls his leg up, allowing Louis to suck a mark into the inside of his thigh. “Lou.” He can’t keep it in any longer, so turned on and so close to begging he barely remembers anything but Louis’ name. 

“You’re so fucking gorgeous.” Louis murmurs, sinking his teeth into the pale skin of Nick’s thigh and making him jerk in Louis’ hold, a curse spilling from his lips. “All legs. Gorgeous.”

“Please.” Nick rasps out, reaching for Louis. Louis comes willingly, hovering over Nick as he kisses him, wrapping a hand around both of them. 

“I was gonna blow you.” Louis mutters against his lips, nipping his bottom lip hard enough for it to sting a bit. “I keep getting sidetracked.” He sits back between Nick’s legs, and Nick nearly sobs in relief when Louis reaches out to squeeze him tightly, hand wrapped around the base of his dick, and then leans down to take him into his mouth.

The world shrinks until there’s nothing but the two of them. Louis’ hand steady and anchoring on his hip, the hot, wet feeling of his mouth as he swallows Nick down, the sound the bed makes as Louis grinds against the mattress. It doesn’t take long before Nick’s coming, shuddering through his release. 

“Let me-” Nick can hear his own heartbeat loudly in his ears, can barely get the words out. He reaches clumsily for Louis, carding his fingers through Louis’ hair as Louis buries his face in Nick’s stomach and comes with a groan. “I was gonna help.”

“You did, fucking Hell.” Louis’ groan turns into a chuckle as he wearily drags himself up to collapse next to Nick. “I think you seriously underestimate the effect you have on me.” Louis says, catching Nick’s hand in his and lacing their fingers together. His cheeks are a little rosy, hair sticking damply to his forehead, and Nick loves him.

“Maybe.” Nick replies, rolling over the lay on his stomach and frowning as the damp sheets tangle with his legs. Trying to ignore it, he closes his eyes even when he can feel Louis sit up next to him.

“Well, the sheets are definitely gonna need a wash now.” Louis points out, using his thumb and index finger to lift a corner of the sweat soaked, dirty duvet. “I guess we’re gonna have to do laundry after doing laundry.”

“Was that a Friends reference?” Nick mumbles, opening one eye to look over at Louis, stretching his arms out underneath the pillow until they knock into the bed frame. “I love you.”

“We should watch some, later.” Louis says, ignoring Nick’s grumbled protest as he pulls the duvet off him and begins to remove the cover. “Come on, do the pillow cases.”

“I need a shower.” Nick says, sitting up and reaching for the pillow he’d been using.

“Shower first, then Netflix.” Louis suggests, and Nick likes the sound of that. He has a few hours before he has to get ready for tonight’s DJ-ing, and he’d prefer to spend every single minute with Louis.

They stumble down the hallway in a tangled heap of limbs and dirty bedsheets, nearly toppling over when Louis decides that Nick might as well carry both him and the laundry and Nick fails to live up to the task. It gives him opportunity to press Louis up against the wall though, sheets bunched up between them, kissing him until they’re both breathless from it. They make quick work of getting the washing machine started, using too much washing powder and probably getting the settings all wrong. Nick couldn’t care less.

Nick’s shower definitely isn’t big enough for the two of them, but they make do, taking turns moaning about being cold and the other stealing all the room underneath the hot spray of the water. Nick’s done rinsing his hair when he looks over at Louis to find him looking straight back at Nick, a small smile playing on his lips. He’s not doing anything, is just standing there with a hand resting on Nick’s waist, looking at him. “What?” Nick asks, “did I miss a spot? Is there chocolate on my face still?”

“I never thought I’d get to have this. Us.” Louis replies and his words make Nick’s heart beat double in his chest. He recognizes the feeling, still can’t quite believe he’s gotten this lucky. That _they_ got this lucky.

“It feels like…” Louis trails off, reaching out to brush his thumb over the triangle tattoo on Nick’s arm, when he looks up at Nick the look in his eyes makes Nick breath catch in his throat.

“Like what?” Nick prompts him, quietly, watching the way tiny drops of water clings to Louis’ eyelashes.

“Like I found a new favourite thing.”

Nick agrees.

 

 

 

 

 

 

THE END.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

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> Thank you so much for reading! Comments are greatly appreciated.
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> I won't make any promises, but I do have a few ideas for a possible Euro 2016 timestamp, so who knows :)
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> Come say hi on [tumblr](http://www.camiii.tumblr.com)!!
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